


As Good As New

by Freyjasdottir



Series: Kashmir [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Animal Sacrifice, Canon Compliant, Christianity, Depression, Eventual Romance, F/M, Intrigue, Moral Dilemmas, Murder, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore, Past Rape/Non-con, Slavery, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 140
Words: 458,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freyjasdottir/pseuds/Freyjasdottir
Summary: Maria, a 23-year-old woman with suicidal tendencies, suddenly finds herself thrust into the Viking Era. After a time working as a slave, she realizes she's been given a second chance and discovers there is more to life than surviving. It is believed she is the vessel of Freyja, but with the title come responsibilities that force her to accept the Viking lifestyle more than she is ready for.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Updates every Tuesday and Friday!
> 
> Vikings had hard lives and had to make tough decisions. They used to rape, pillage, and plunder, and there was nothing romantic or nice about it. I wrote this story to reflect that, and have not shied away from describing these things where the main character runs into them. The story will follow along with the canon mostly, but to keep it interesting for both myself and you, I've switched some things up. There will be some supernatural occurrences, but the story is low fantasy in general.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-02-2018

The sky had been dark and overcast for most of the day, but now the sun finally chose to shine. The warmth was a welcome friend, one of the few I had left. Floating in the lake, I closed my eyes. Tonight would be the night. I found the right place and had everything prepared. Tonight would be the night I died.

At the ripe old age of 23, I would finally let go of my past. Only five years ago I had been full of hope, certain that life on my own was everything I could ever want. For years I had dreamt of freedom, of kindness, of everything being the exact opposite of how I was raised. It was that very world that had broken every part of me that I spent years burying and protecting within myself. No therapist, psychologist or psychiatrist had ever been able to help me enough to overcome the years of abuse I endured, only ever preventing things from getting worse. Lately, even that failed.

After my last attempt to commit suicide had failed, I fell back into desperation and decided it was time to do things my way, without any chance of people finding me in time. I had chosen how and when to leave this life, and it would be on my terms. Hoping to fulfill a lifelong dream of ever going there, I had taken the first flight out to Scandinavia. Driving out of the city and into the wilderness, I didn't really care where I was. From what I could see the nature was okay, but not that special it took my breath away. Just another in a long line of regrets. At the very least, it was away from my homeland, away from my fears and regrets. The music blasted out of the speakers, hours of carefully selecting the right music for this trip paying off tenfold.

After a few hours, I kept choosing roads that were smaller than the ones I was on, until I chanced upon a quiet part of a forest, with a clearing surrounding a huge lake. That had been four days ago, and though I had planned to do some traveling, this spot was just what I had gone out to find. No one had come by, I hadn't even heard a car off in the distance or a plane overhead. The first two days I spent walking around the environment, taking in the sights and checking for human presence. I was satisfied and spent the third day writing in my diary and making the necessary preparations. Today, I had finished those and there was nothing left to do but bathe in the lake.

My bag held a towel, my diary, two sharp knives, and medication. Everything I needed to execute my plan. Sighing in wonder at my determination and fearlessness, I went underwater one last time and emerged from the lake. A chilly wind blew against my wet skin, making me shiver. The rays of the sun did nothing more to warm me, but still, I sat down on my towel without drying myself off. I pulled my diary out of the satchel and read what I had written earlier. Reading it all back, the embarrassment I'd put myself through almost every time I'd left the house, the few things I had been happy about ever since I'd quit therapy, I knew this was the right thing for me to do.

By the time I had gone through the entire thing, most of the water had evaporated from my skin. The sun was starting to disappear behind the far-off mountain ranges. It gave the illusion it was already getting late, but the sun went down much earlier than I was used to, up here in the north. I got up, removing the last drops of water from my skin and hair as best I could. Putting my diary back in my satchel, I came across an empty bottle. Swallowing all those pills without water would be awful. Returning to the lake, satchel already on my shoulders, I bent down to fill the bottle. The water was cooling down rapidly now the sun no longer warmed the shallow end. After all, it was still February.

A bird began to caw loudly as I tried to get up. My heart skipped a beat, my lungs inhaling fast and deep. Not minding where I put my feet, I felt my weight shift. A slippery rock caused me to tumble down, back into the water. A hard smack to the back of my head was the last I felt before succumbing to the darkness that came for me.


	2. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15-02-799

The sun was nowhere near the mountains when I woke. The cold lake water softly rippled against my ears, hair plastered across my face. When recalling the last thing I remembered, a splitting headache crashed against the inside of my skull. As I focused on my breathing, the headache subsided a little. I dared get up slowly, taking in my surroundings. The windless air felt cold. I must have laid there for at least the night, since there now was snow everywhere. The trees looked different, as did the grasses and the reeds surrounding the edge of the lake. Still, it felt like I was still in the same place. The mountains hadn't changed.  
  
The satchel was clutched in my hand, completely soaked. When I realized my diary was still in there, I crawled out of the water to see what had happened to it. Ignoring my head, I threw the contents on the ground as tears flooded my eyes. It was just as soaked as me. Afraid to see how bad the damage was, I clutched the book close to my chest. Water dripped down on my already wet skin. Heaving sobs now came out. My diary was my closest friend. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, this was not how my life was supposed to end. This was not my way.  
  
Trembling from the cold, I had to get up. My towel was supposed to be here somewhere. It lay a few meters away, completely soaked. Just my luck... I rinsed the sand off in the water, then wrung it out. Preferring soaked bath linen to remaining naked, I wrapped the towel around me, tucking in the end. There was nothing to do but head back to my tent, so I bowed down to pick up my satchel. All the items were still there, except for the water bottle. It must have been claimed by the lake. I contemplated going back into the water to find it, but the sight of the clear water had lost all its appeal. The skin on my fingers was wrinkled from the prolonged exposure to the water - how long had I been in there? Judging by the sun it had to have been at least an entire night. It was a miracle I hadn't died of hypothermia yet.  
  
Feeling defeated, I resigned myself to finding my way back to the tent. I could do nothing about my drowned diary, like much else in life. The only thing there was to do was to dry myself off and put on some clothes to battle the cold. Maybe driving around a bit would help me warm up faster. After just a few steps I realized that would be a terrible idea. My head was killing me. Judging by past experiences, it seemed to be a concussion. Every step I took sent a new jolt of pain through my skull. Still, I walked on. There was nothing else to do. Not being able to drive, quickly running out of food, my best hope was coming across someone willing to help.  
  
I smiled at the irony of it. I had always avoided people whenever possible, and now I needed one, one of the good ones, to help me survive. I only stopped walking after that word came across my mind - survive. Didn't I come here to end my suffering? And now, this extra suffering made me think words that I never thought I'd think of again.  
  
"I must be losing my mind," I whispered to myself. "Yes, it must be. This concussion is messing with me, I just need some rest and then I'll finish what I came here to do. I can do it, I can be strong like that. I have to." I kept encouraging myself, distracting me from the pain and the cold. My feet had gone numb from the cold and the uneven forest ground that surrounded me. It wasn't until I noticed the overhead clouds turned dark that I looked up at my surroundings.  
  
A huge storm was coming, and soon. Shouldn't I have reached the tent by now? Where was the car? I didn't even recognize the trees anymore. Coming to a standstill, I realized my situation just got a lot worse. Not only was I as good as naked, and hurt, now I was lost as well. I allowed myself a moment to scream out the frustration I felt, then resigned myself to my fate. After everything I had been through, this was nothing. Trailing back a bit, hoping I just passed the campsite by pure oversight, I went back. I was stupid enough to do something like that, it was just that simple. I kept walking in what I assumed was the right direction until a gasp caught my attention. My eyes found the source of the gasp and found what seemed to be a cosplayer. Unlike some I'd seen, this one was quite convincing, the woman was dressed as a peasant from the middle ages.  
  
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I need help. I'm lost and my head hurts, like, really really bad. My campsite is around here somewhere, but I can't find it." The cosplayer kept standing there, completely silent and completely still. Didn't she understand me? Scandinavia was supposedly pretty good at speaking English, why didn't she seem to understand? It must have been my body, she thought I was revolting. I knew I was, but did she have to be so obvious about it? Wasn't it obvious I required help?  
  
"Please, I need to see a doctor. I need some clothes. I slipped in the lake and hurt my head." For all the good it would do me, I at least had to try. I took a few careful steps towards the other woman, hoping the scared look on her face would soon turn into one of pity and understanding. A look I normally despised, but now needed to make sure my plight was understood. Instead of giving me that look I was looking for, the woman screamed again. This time not out of surprise or anger, but a lot of incoherent sounds. I didn't understand any of it and just gazed at the cosplayer. As I was about to turn around and find someone more helpful, a male cosplayer approached. Maybe he would understand English. I felt as if my body was shrinking, I wanted to disappear. His eyes went over my body as he approached the woman who screamed at him. Something close to panic rose to the surface.

"Please, sir, I need help." My plea went unanswered. "I slipped in the lake, my head hurts. I need a doctor." The woman, still screaming, made my head hurt even more. I put a hand on my head, hoping to ease the pain and drown out the noise. "Please, I'm lost. I need help. Do you speak English?" The man seemed focused on me while pressing the woman to his body as if to protect her. He whispered something in her ear, causing her to run away. Even though the woman had only screamed and increased my headache, I didn't want to be alone with this man.

He seemed menacing, tall, broad, and very capable of hurting me. I tried to shy away, slowly taking steps away from him. His blond hair flowed across his shoulders, a few braids adorned his head. His cosplay attire was everything I could imagine when I thought about Viking men. Scraggly looking boots, leather pants that seemed to be sown up rather clumsily, a roughly spun woolen shirt with all kinds of stitchings on it, and an impressive beard.

He pulled an axe from a belt at his waist, the blade pointed towards me. I realized that not if, but when he got close, my headache would be the last thing I had to worry about. Putting my hands out in front of me, I kept stepping backward, as if to push away his murderous aura. I wanted to run away, hoping I could lose him in the forest, but I didn't dare look away from the axe. The panic that had been building inside me now started to take over. My breathing became irregular and a faint tremor took away control of my left arm. No, this couldn't be happening. This wasn't just a cosplayer, this was a madman.

The axe was obviously not made of rubber, the blade shining as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. It looked disturbingly sharp. My focus only shifted away from the axe and the terrifying look in his eyes when my foot hit a tree, followed by my shoulder and head banging into the trunk. A searing pain shot through my head again, I felt my body go limp. The male cosplayer took full advantage of it, as I grappled my head and moaned from the pain. He roughly took my wrist in his hand, and only put his axe away when he realized I couldn't even try to put up a fight as I used my free hand to clutch the edge of my towel. He bound my arms together with a length of rope and picked me up, slinging me over his shoulder.

As he started to walk I couldn't take the constant lift and drop from atop his shoulder, my head screaming to stop any movement at all. I felt my stomach fighting against the sudden, bumpy movements, trying to heave up anything left in my stomach. His shoulder poking into my abdomen kept my nausea going until I couldn't keep it in any longer. Only a bit of bile came up, and I let it drop from my mouth. Drool followed, and the Viking didn't seem too pleased with it. He tried replacing me on his shoulder, but it either didn't work, or it didn't matter. I lost consciousness as my body kept on screaming for the movement to stop.

It wasn't until my butt hit the ground hard, the pain jolting through my tailbone, that I woke. Still feeling sick and not just my head hurting now, I clutched at the towel. It had come loose. I willed my body to vanish, shrink, anything that would get me to be alone and away. I tried to curl up, wanting to lose consciousness again. The only relief I felt was the warmth of the tears streaking my face, bringing a semblance of warmth to my cold and barely covered body. Another wave of bile came up, and I tried to hold it in. My body was trying to shut down, wanting me to rest. At the same time, my senses were overloaded, wanting to shut out all the noise.

The feeling of fat raindrops falling everywhere on my exposed skin forced me to stay awake. The towel was clinging to my body, drenching wet again. I didn't have the energy to fight whoever picked me up off the ground, I only noticed that the rain suddenly stopped falling on me, and the cold disappeared. Someone took the effort of roughly rubbing my body dry, all the while my eyes unable to focus. As I felt my body being laid down on a warm and fluffy area, something warm covering me, I threw up again. My hair felt clammed against her forehead. I tried focussing my eyes, but as soon as a wet cloth touched my face I lost consciousness again.


	3. Slowly Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 04-03-799

Fevered dreams tortured my sleep. My father approached, coming so close I couldn't avoid him touching me. I felt him forcing open my mouth, trying to get me to swallow something sweet and sticky. My stomach objected against the fluid, throwing up again. My entire body felt wet and damp, my eyes open but still not able to see clearly.

"No, dad, please... Dad, stop it, I don't want to..." I swallowed out of instinct, my mouth full of spit and the sweet, sticky fluid. "Dad, leave me alone..." I swallowed again. The face of a woman came into sight, a kind face. A caring face. I didn't care. I just wanted to die. That way, the pain would stop. The torture would stop. I would no longer suffer endless nightmares. My father would disappear. I would be free.

When I was finally able to stay awake for longer than a few minutes, I slowly took in my surroundings. I lay in some kind of bed. The mattress felt like a kind of fur, as did the covers. The walls were wooden, the floor next to my small bed seemed packed dirt with straw on top of it. It was a small room, with a fire in the middle. An older woman was bustling around, keeping the room clean. Sometimes, she would look at me. The pitying, understanding look I had sought after in the cosplaying woman, I now found in the older woman. She looked like a stereotypical grandma. Her hair had turned grey, softening the hard, weathered look she carried herself with.

When I was able to stay awake for larger periods of time, I noticed the woman was talking to me in calming, soothing sounds. This annoyed me. I was not a baby to be coddled, or a doll to be done with as pleased. I had suffered enough of that from my real mother, there was no need to repeat that phase of my life with a new motherly figure. Despite my dependency on the woman, I grew to hate her.

Sometimes, there would be visitors. As my fever dropped, I remembered more of the visitors. The woman cosplayer came around a lot, asking questions. A man, even broader and bulkier than the one that took me came by frequently, looking at my face and questioning the elderly woman. His deep brown hair was cropped short, his ears folding out somewhat. He wore leather armor, covering him from his shoulders down to his knees. His lower arms were covered in leather and iron as if he was expecting to fight someone soon. One time, I tried to speak to him. There was some recognition in his face, but not enough to warrant an answer to my question.

It was not until I was fit enough to leave my bed that I noticed something weird. The room I was in was covered in ancient trinkets, ranging from intricate designs on axes and wooden poles, to animal skulls all over the walls. The furs that I laid in and was covered by made me feel uncomfortable as I noticed how stiff my body had become. Where was I, a long-term cosplay room? Exactly how crazy was Norway about reliving the past? It was only when I tried to step outside of the room that I realized the room was, in reality, a house. Beyond the door was an entire village. Although situated on the edge of the village, the road I was now on led to a smattering of similar houses, a dirt road connecting most of them. Animals were kept in pens; goats, pigs and maybe two cows and a horse. The rain was gently falling, adding to the pools gathered on the side of the road. The temperature made my bare feet feel cold, goosebumps appearing on my arms. Where was I? What was this place?

Two women walked by, talking gibberish and looking at me funnily. It was too much. I returned to the room that was a house and found I was alone. This gave me some comfort, even though I felt completely out of place. Was there even such a thing as long-term re-enactment? The skulls adorning the walls seemed realistic enough, some even had the remnants of antlers. Maybe this was one of those backward places where they shunned modern technology, like the Amish. I never knew those were a thing in Europe. Yes, that was probably it. Shunning the outside world would also explain why there was no one around was able to speak English.

I only now noticed the dress I appeared to be wearing. It wasn't much, just one layer of clothing. It was enough to cover me from shoulder to knee, with a split up to the middle of my thighs on both sides. There were hardly any decorations on the garment, which pleased me. I hated frilly clothes. I disliked attention in general, preferring to go unnoticed. My hands went down the sturdy fabric, wondering who had dressed me in it. I noticed the state of my body, feeling more bones protruding than before. My hips felt bony, hardly any bodyfat left. My hands darted to my face, feeling slender cheeks and a thin throat. I had never been overweight, though now I appeared to be too skinny to be healthy. Just how long had I been out of it?

The only door to the room opened, revealing the woman whose face I'd seen in between my feverish dreams. She seemed relieved to see me up and about, or out of bed at least. She put her hands on my cheeks, said something, and then turned to the pot boiling above the fire in the middle of the room. She kept saying encouraging words, throwing things she had cut up into the pot all the while. Judging by the sunlight that came into the house, it must have been close to dinner time. Or did the sun still set around four in the afternoon?

She was cooking dinner. A sudden pang of hunger hit as I realized, my body was clamoring for proper nourishment. I felt myself salivating, my eyes staring at the pot hungrily.

After a while, she scooped out two spoons full and handed me a bowl and a crude utensil that might have been a spoon. Hungry as I was, I attacked the meal. The older woman made some gestures warning me to eat slowly, which I did reluctantly. I didn't know for how long I was out, and my stomach already started to react to the few bites I had swallowed. I needed to be careful, as my body was probably not used to anything but fluids right now. Judging by my weight loss, I had been out of it for about three weeks. Barely any fat remained on my body, burned away by the fever.

My stomach growled, screaming for sustenance. It tasted like venison, slightly gamy but still soft enough to be chewed down easily. As the elderly woman smiled at my appetite I noticed some of her teeth were missing. Being alone in the house with her, I wondered if the elderly woman had any family to come to visit her. Did she even have any way of paying for the food she seemed so fond of sharing with me? The fact I was up seemed to make her happier than I remembered her face being before, and I produced a small, awkward smile back. I didn't know what was going on here, but it was obvious the woman had been taking care of me. I wanted to ask her but remembering the responses I got from trying to talk earlier I decided not to. Someone was finally willing to help me, I felt no need to frighten the one person willing to look after me in my time of need.

After finishing the meal I gathered the bowls and utensils, to clean them for the woman. I was at a loss though, as I realized I didn't know where or how to clean anything. There was no kitchen sink, no place where the garbage was kept, or flowing water seemed to come from. The elderly woman seemed to realize my dilemma, taking it all out of my hands. She walked towards the door, looking back at me and extending a hand, beckoning me. I followed hesitantly. Surely, she wouldn't mean me any harm after the efforts she took taking care of me.

Walking past some of the houses, the elderly woman led me towards a small creek. She started washing up the bowls and utensils and looked at me, wondering. I took one of the bowls from the stack and followed her lead. The water was freezing, but I carried on. I wouldn't be deterred by icy water. I tried to scrub the bowl as good as I could. My slightly too long nails scratching the surface, I was trying to get rid of all the irregularities on the bottom of the bowl. No food would be left behind, I would make sure of that. By the time I was done, the woman had cleaned not only her own bowl but the utensils for eating and cooking as well. I felt like a failure, watching the enthusiasm on the woman's face as she saw me giving it my best. I halted and handed her the bowl for inspection. She didn't even look at it, adding it to the pile and walking back without saying a word.

Wasn't she going to complain about the time it took me? Didn't she find anything wrong with the cleaning up I did? I didn't understand, my face turning sour at the happy look on her face as she kept walking back to the house. It was only on the main dirt road that she stopped, looking ashen as I stood beside her and tried listening to the two men standing beside the house. Curiosity taking over, I tried listening to what they said to her. She tried to go against them but judging by her expression she lost the argument. I felt sorry for her, and I felt like I owed it to her to try and make it better.

"What is going on? Did I do something wrong?" I asked, not really expecting an answer. She looked at me sullenly, as if she was hoping I hadn't said anything. The two men pushed passed us, clearly having a goal and a reason for the quickening in their step. I tried to look ashamed for her sake. She just looked at me with a sad smile, then guided me back into her house.


	4. On The Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 05-03-799

I went to sleep after we got back to the small house and woke up to the comforting words of the elderly woman. Behind her kind face were the two men that we came across yesterday. They looked less than patient, eager to get out of the cottage. I got out of the bed, not wanting the men to harass the kind woman anymore. As soon as I got to my feet, the men grabbed my arms and started dragging me away. I fought as much as I could, screaming in my native language.

"No, stop! What do you want from me, I didn't do anything! Please don't hurt her, all she did was take care of me!" One of the men kicked at me, clearly losing his patience. The last I saw of the woman was a look full of remorse. She was my safety, the one face I knew and the one who had made me feel at least a bit safe. Her face had haunted my dreams, forcing me to swallow whatever she put in my mouth. I now realized this was meant to nourish me during my illness. My head still hurt as the men dragged me onwards, but not so much it caused me to faint or puke. Tears streamed down my face, not knowing what was waiting for me or what would happen to me. I didn't even know her name.

The men dragged me through a pair of double doors, into a building much larger than the one-room house I spent my time being nursed back to health. The man standing before me was slightly burlier than the men that had dragged me from my resting place. I thought I recognized him from before, hadn't he come by to try and talk to me? I started to cry in earnest now, not knowing how else to relieve the tension that had been building up in my body. I vaguely noted I was glad that this time at least, I had some article of clothing on. The man started asking me questions, his face hard and his eyes intently staring at me. I wanted to shout at him, he made me feel vulnerable and naked despite being dressed. After one of those questions, the large house fell silent all around me. I felt so helpless, so alone. I couldn't do anything but scream at him.

"What do you want from me? I don't understand, what do you need me to tell you?" The man in front of me seemed surprised by my outburst. I thought I recognized some words from his ramblings, but I wouldn't bet any money on it. I kept silent, thinking anything I said would just make everything worse. I lowered my head in deference, accepting anything the man would do to me. I just hoped it would be quick and painless. He stepped down and walked up to me, raising my chin with just one of his fingers. I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him.

He started shouting at me, but I kept my eyes closed. The only thing I understood, was the word 'thing'. I gathered there was to be a thing I needed to be at. The men in the house started shouting in agreement, carrying me away. The only positive thing that came from meeting the man was that I wasn't stripped of my clothing. Upon seeing me brought back, the elderly woman asked me many questions. I didn't know how to settle her down, emotions clearly running high. I repeated the only word I had understood from my public performance. After that, the woman shut up and started carrying the pitying look I hated so much.


	5. The Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 09-03-799

I didn't know when, but I was to be taken from the house once more. The woman seemed constantly worried, trying to get me to eat all the time, and fussing over my hair for some reason. She barely left me alone, and as my head still hurt like a bitch I stayed in bed as much as possible.

As soon as the snow outside started melting and turned to grey, a man I hadn't seen before came to the house. He talked to the elderly woman in hushed tones and left shortly after. The woman started packing furs and dressed me in warm clothing, making me realize I was to leave shortly. The woman packed some food for me in one package, and some clothing in another. She grabbed my face and touched her forehead to mine, whispering words that were clearly meant for comfort. Tears filled her eyes, and I couldn't deny feeling emotional as well.

"Thank you for everything that you've done for me. I owe you so much more than I can ever try to repay you." She didn't understand the words, but she seemed to understand the sentiment. Maybe one or two words were similar to those of her own language. A knock came to the door, and it opened not a second later. The burly man that had spoken to me about the thing was there, and I came with him without putting up a fight. I didn't want to cause the kind old lady any more trouble than I was worth. The man roughly bound my wrists together, tightening the other end of the rope to a cart set up on the dirt road. I was tied to that cart, and it was immediately clear to me I was to keep pace with the cart for as long as I needed to keep walking. I was to meet my death at the thing, and I would embrace it.

The journey was far more grueling than I thought, for all the wrong reasons. I had expected to be cold, hungry, and shunned. Instead, my feet were beyond tired, having assembled blister upon blister upon blister. I could feel blood filling my makeshift shoes, even though there was no blood seeping through the boots I was given by the elderly woman. But the worst was that I'd lost so much weight in a brief time. I hadn't only been losing body fat, but muscle mass as well. I knew I'd have been able to keep walking longer, and better, had I not been bedridden for such a long time.

I couldn't go on anymore, wanting to just simply die. The rope tied to my wrists became a solution to a problem, as I grew so desperate I decided that being pulled by my wrists was better than walking another step. I felt my body bruising as I was dragged by the cart, thinking the bruises on my wrists and body were preferable to walking another step on my broken-down feet. Still, as much as my feet felt relieved, I felt the judgment and pain of having to admit defeat on my soul.  
  
When I had first started to stumble, the men had laughed. By the time I preferred being dragged, they grew tired of me, causing heated debate. I didn't fool myself into thinking the debate was about my welfare, it was about the time it took to cover ground. One of the women looked at me with pity and spoke up to the man beside her, who threw me on one of the carts. I no longer had to walk or be dragged, but I still felt humiliated. Among all these capable men and women, I couldn’t keep up. I felt the cart was a punishment, even though it relieved the pain that tortured my feet and wrists. Two nights passed, lying on the cart before I saw some form of civilization around me. A single house was built next to the dirt road.  
  
The word 'road' was generous at best, as it often happened that something disrupted the road. If it wasn't tree roots, there would be holes or something other that would lift the cart up for a split second, only to fall again just as fast. Obviously, suspension was too modern for the shoddy wooden cart. I kept switching sides on which I lay, hoping to spread out the bruising that was forced upon my body. I cried silent tears, hoping the torment would end soon. The food the woman had given me was almost gone. At the same time, I knew making too much noise would result in me having to walk again. My feet were just starting to feel better as we entered an area with more houses than before. After a quick stop, more people joined the band.

I forced myself to stop crying, wanting to show myself as more than just an emotional woman who couldn't handle shit at the Thing. I didn't know what the Thing was but listening to the men and women along the way, I gathered there would be many people present. The voices around me told of the Thing with such reverence, such devotion, I was certain I was to be judged at the Thing, as I had assumed. When the cart stopped rolling again, I knew we had arrived. The men and women that were not bound were offered a drink other than water, by the looks of it. I desperately wanted to drown my sorrows, but I was the only one that wasn't offered a drink. Judging by the mood, asking for one in crude gestures would not end up with the desired outcome.

Lying on the cart, I hardly got any looks at all. Everyone seemed to know where to go, found friends, or went off to search for some. I was left alone, no one cared about me, or my wounds. It wasn't until a man from the journey came and took me off the cart that anyone seemed to notice me. I was led directly to the biggest house there. With no food or drink to sustain me since I'd eaten the last of what I had been given last night, straight off the cart, feeling like crap, that I was brought before him.

It was a hall, much larger than the previous one I'd been in. A large firepit was right in the middle, surrounded by tables and benches filled with people. I hadn't seen this many together since I'd left the airport, and it made me queasy. I had no idea how long that had been, or how to get away from them, and their stares.

The burly man pulled me forward by the rope, and as soon as he stood still, so did I. He said a few words, then removed the rope. I sank down to the floor, not knowing how to keep on standing on my sore feet. My hands rubbed on the wounds, coming away with dirt, and dried up blood. This was it. I felt a new set of eyes staring at me, and I refused to look at them. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts, to collect all my strength before facing off whoever was to decide on my fate.  
When a loud and clear voice started speaking, my eyes found his immediately. A tall man stood on the dais, with a cropped beard, bright blue eyes, and an unforgiving look deeply embedded in them, judging me silently. He would have towered over me even without the help of the dais. I felt myself shrink under his gaze. Suddenly I noticed how dirty and ragged I must have looked to him. The dress I had gotten from the old woman was caked in dirt and blood, my hair hadn't been brushed since my departure, and I was pretty sure my breath was bad enough I could kill someone with it.

The man who had decided I would have to come here spoke to the man on the dais, supported by a thin sprout of a man, but I hardly recognized that second one. Was he the one to offer me a drink of water along the way here, or was he the one that spat on my legs when I couldn't walk anymore? It didn't matter. The man on the dais was important, and he would decide on my fate. This was the Thing, and it was here my fate would be decided.

I noticed the many blades and axes in the hall, and I was hoping at least some of these Amish-like men would have genuine weapons on them. Perhaps I could find a real weapon and kill myself before I would be tortured slowly. I still wanted to die, but making it swift and painless was preferable. I looked across the room, hoping to find a sharp weapon near me to end my life with. Judging by the respect shown to the man talking about my fate, any attack on him would be retaliated on with a sudden and total death. I'd never reach the weapons before I would be caught trying to get to them, with this number of men around. I would only have one chance to end my miserable life, I had to be swift and decisive if I didn't want to suffer long.

The man on the dais seemed to notice I ignored most of what he said. It was only that he mentioned the word 'Christian' that I looked up at him again, eyes flashing wide. I spat on the floor, not wanting to be associated with such people. My eyes shot fire at him, my body ready to lunge at him if he was to say that word again.

The scowl on my face disappeared and he mentioned Valhalla. He seemed so sure of that word as if it were real to him. Did he really believe in it? Did he really expect a large hall full of feasting warriors and gods when he would die? I knew of some people still adhering to the pagan gods, but that was more of a fashion statement. They didn't believe the gods were real. But he...

He kept his eyes locked on mine, ignoring what was said by my captors. Could it be? Was he really a genuine Viking? Was this what he believed? But that would mean I had traveled through time. That was impossible. No, it had to be something else that could explain everything that had happened to me. I eyed the axe strapped to his belt, believing it to be a real weapon and not just a blunt foam object. Would he be able to release me from my suffering?

The confusion I felt, and the fear that had taken root made me think it would be worth the risk to give it a try. I stood up, despite my blistered feet that were trying to heal, despite my wrists being bound, rubbed raw, with blood caked on the rope and my broken skin, looking in his eyes defiantly. If I could antagonize him enough if I could rub him the wrong way, would he ease my suffering enough to end it for me? What words could I say to make him angry enough?

I saw how my satchel was thrown before him clumsily, forcing him to step down to the packed dirt floor to pick it up. It took a lot of willpower to ignore the complete invasion of my privacy, the items being put on display for all to see. There wasn't much to pull out of there, to begin with.

It was only when he noticed the blister packaging of my medication that he became interested enough to stop the taunting looks he threw me. Drawing them out, revealing them to the others, he didn't know what to make of it. He crushed the box in his hand as if he hadn't known what a box was. Then he played around with the strip, pushing out a pill. I screamed in surprise, wanting nothing more than to stop him from doing what he just did.

Those pills were part of my exit strategy, I would need them if he didn't decide to kill me. The man seemed to notice my plight, smirking at my need. How could he not recognize a regular strip of pills and my apparent need of them? Did he really not know? How dedicated could he be to ignoring modern looking things? Was it even fake? I figured there was no time like the present to find out.

I wanted to grab for the pills, holding back just barely. If he wouldn't break character for my need for medication, what would do the trick? I still wasn't entirely sure he was a real Viking. But this was just too convincing to be an Amish-like community, someone would have recognized English or Dutch by now, at least, and the idea of all these people cosplaying for so long seemed ridiculous. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

The man threw the strip on the ground. I started reaching for the pills, only to get distracted by the diary the man got from my satchel next. Noticing my shifted attention, the wild look in my eyes, he used it to bait me. Holding it above my reach, he made me dance on my blistered feet as I was desperate to grasp for the token of my past, of my soul, from his cruel hands.

"No. Don't you dare. Don't you dare keep that away from me. That book holds my soul, and whatever is left of my will to live. Give it back to me, right now!" The entire hall held its breath, curious about what I had just demanded. If looks could kill, the man holding my diary would have wasted away without delay. People were holding their breath, realizing they recognized some of the words I spoke. Would someone recognize I had spoken Dutch? Would someone be able to speak a few words? Would that man give me back my diary?

Even though the pages were barely separable without ripping the individual pages, even though I was no longer able to read it in the state it was now in, I wanted it back. When I realized the man wouldn't just give it back to me, I decided on a new tactic.

Clearly, this wasn't just some weird Norwegian Amish community. This was a real-life Viking. A bad-ass one at that. If only I managed to antagonize him enough, he would end my life for me. Just looks and words wouldn't do.

I spat at him, the phlegm sticking to his beard. The venom dripping from my eyes must have been obvious, as the look in his eyes turned to one of curiosity. That made me hate the man even more. I was not pleased to be his entertainment. The people in the hall grew impatient with the game we were playing and called out his name.

"Ragnar!" The other words were lost on me. The man apparently called Ragnar seemed undecided on what to do, so I did the only thing I could do at that moment. I gathered the courage to attack him. I stared at him, hoping he would look away for a second, getting ready to pounce. It was when he stared back at me, equally as defiant, that he reminded me of my father. The hall fell silent as he seemed to intensify his stare into my eyes. He repulsed me. He held my mental welfare in his hands, all of my being. My diary, all that was left of me. Ragnar had total control of me in that moment. All my resolve fell away. The memories of my father and the fear I felt for him came flooding back. He took his eyes off me when he drew one of the knives from my satchel. He looked at the craftsmanship, admiring the hilt and the sharpness of the blade. Even though it was factory made, it was probably better than anything he had ever seen. In an instant, he dropped my satchel and held the blade to my throat. I didn't dare swallow, knowing how sharp the blades were. Then I remembered my plan, and my resolve came back.

I would not bleed to death silently, from a shallow cut on my throat. I would go down swinging. My breathing became deeper. I was almost ready to end my life. I noticed the hall had fallen silent again, watching what was happening in some sort of trance. Despite me standing completely still, I felt a drop of warm blood falling from my throat, but I kept my gaze focused on him. I would not back down first. I would grab hold of his hand and slice my throat any second now. I only needed to take back control for a second. Too often I had relinquished control, too often my father had won. This time, I would win.

I lost my composure when he lowered the blade, speaking a few words to garner a laugh from the people surrounding us. I felt defeated. I had waited too long. A woman I hadn't noticed before grabbed me by my arm. She was stronger than I would have thought. She dragged me away, forcing me to walk on painful blisters while hearing excited hoots from the people surrounding me and Ragnar. As he disappeared from my sight, so did my will to defy anyone and anything that stood before me.

A bucket of water was put in front of me, and some cloths. I was left alone for a while, and not wanting to have to undress in front of these strangers, I washed off the worst of the road dirt, and the blood. It felt nice to feel clean again if only a little. Some strange woman came in, looking like she should have been standing next to Ragnar. She looked upset with me, even though I had done nothing to her yet, not even spoken a word. I hastily put down the cloth, not wanting to shove it underneath my dress to get clean anymore.

She spoke up, but I didn't understand a word she said. Rolling her eyes, she threw me the dress in her hands. I figured I needed to change. In front of her. Once more she told me something, but I just fumbled around, feeling the sturdy fabric of the dress she had given me. When she drew near, her hand already reaching out to me, I shrank down to the floor. I didn't want her to touch me. I didn't want her to force me to go naked in front of her. The woman let out an exasperated sigh, then left me alone.

This small reprieve was all I needed to jump back into action. I fumbled as I tried to undo the lacing on the front of my dirty dress, not being used to have to untie myself before removing my clothes. I had barely managed to put on the clean dress when two women came in, taking me in as if to find every fault there was to me. They spoke a different language, one of which I could understand a few words. There was some German, and Dutch, and English. Still, they terrified me, and I was loath to try and start a conversation.

From their tone, I could hear they were insulting me. As they dragged me out to another part of the hall away from the others still, I let them press on the wounds on my wrists, knowing that fighting back would only cause me more pain and hurt. I just wanted it to be over with. The women dragged me down to sit on the floor, then pushed a piece of bread in my hands. One of them left, but the dark haired one stuck around, watching me intently as I nibbled on the bread. She asked me a couple of questions, but as I failed to understand her she started to monologue about something that mattered deeply to her. I just started off in the distance.

I hadn't been put in chains or had been tied up again. That boded well for my survival rates, but since this woman kept prattling on I imagined I was being watched closely. At least I'd been given clean clothes and something to eat, all indications I would stay here for at least a few days. Perhaps they were still undecided about me, or they meant to send me even further up the chain of command. I idly wondered how the hall of an even greater man would look like.

Both of us looked up as a man came in. Short, dark curly hair, dark eyes, he didn't look like much of a Viking to me. Even his small beard was unimpressive compared to the ones I'd seen so far. He lacked the muscle, and the broad shoulders, not to mention the scars. He said something to the woman, who responded in the same strange language she had spoken before. The man grew a bit irritated and rebuked her, after which she left us.

A block of ice slid down my spine. I was alone with him, and there was nothing I could do to protect myself.

"Ek eru Athelstan," he said slowly. "Hva eru ditt navn?" I kept my eyes on the piece of bread in my hand. "Ic béo Athelstan. Hwa béo úre cíegnes?" Another blank expression on my face. He was trying to talk to me, but I didn't know what he was saying. I didn't want to speak, at any rate. The man noticed I wouldn't give him anything, so he gave up on trying to communicate through language. I only looked up at him as he held out my diary to me.

I almost didn't dare touch it. Why would anyone want to do anything nice for me? What had I done to deserve this? As I put my hand on the cover, I noticed my hand was shaking a bit. He prattled on in a soft tone, but I couldn't make out anything he said. He just handed me my diary and then left again. Sitting there, in the back, by myself, I felt lost and found. I had no idea what would happen to me, or what had happened thus far, but I did have my diary back. The pages still clung together, and what scraps I could see barely held any semblance of ink anymore, but it was enough for me. It was proof I wasn't going insane or going through some kind of psychosis. It came from the same place as me, which was further away than I wanted to think about.

After a while, the noise from the hall died down, and the brown-haired woman came back, guiding me off to somewhere outside. I tried to look around, but all I saw were wooden walls around me as we walked through an alley. She took me inside a barn, with cows and pigs there behind a crude barrier. The room held a few very medieval looking beds, of which plenty was still available. I didn't need the woman to point out one to realize this was where I would spend the night. With my diary clutched tight, I raveled in how warm the furs were, despite their shabby state. With my diary still clutched in my arms, it didn't take long for me to drift off into a fitful sleep.


	6. Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2:  
> 15-03-799

It must have been mere hours since I went to sleep when high-pitched screeching woke me up. The diary had slipped to somewhere between my feet, but the fact I still had it gave me great comfort. One of the small children walking around was the first to notice I had awoken. Only having my diary close prevented me from lashing out at the kid. He couldn't have been more than five years old. There was no harm in him, and he proudly introduced himself as Ubbe.

Uncertain of how to introduce myself, I just smiled. He prattled on with words I didn't understand, but my smiling was enough to encourage him to go on. He seemed so innocent, so pure. He coaxed me out of bed by dragging me by my arm, enthusiastic about showing me something. Ubbe dragged me from the barn and into the hall where the Thing had happened. I allowed him to heighten my spirits a little, wondering what he wanted to show me.

With his small hand still clutched in mine, he proudly raised his prized possession. He had a small child-sized axe in his hands. The only word of his prattling I recognized was floki, even though I didn't know what a floki was. I smiled though, accepting him putting the miniature axe in my hands. I looked over the craftsmanship, realizing with a shock that the axe had a real edge to it. What imbecile would grant a small child a real weapon? Didn't these people realize this was really dangerous?

The woman who had given me a new dress last night reproachfully grabbed the axe from my hand and told Ubbe something. He didn't dare look at me again. I didn't understand what was being said, but Ubbe seemed not at all fazed and simply went looking for someone else to play with. The woman started talking to me, but this even made less sense to me. After a quick glance across my body, probing with a sharp finger and inspecting my palms, she took me by the hand and guided me towards a table, with a plate full of food waiting for me. I hungrily dug in, not having had any proper food for some days. It was only when I realized part of the food must have been some sort of strange sour fish that I started heaving. I lost my appetite after that, not trusting any food put before me after. Understanding her words meant nothing to me, the woman guided me by the wrist again and gave me some looks telling me she didn't know what to make of me. That feeling was mutual.

Rolling her eyes, she dragged me outside of the hall, leaving me little time to see what the outside looked like. She tried introducing me to the man whose house we went to, but she realized she didn't know my name. It was the same man from last night, who had given me back my diary. It might have been unfair to her, since she had done nothing but help me so far. I didn't ignore the obvious introductions to hurt her, I just didn't know how my name would be received in this obviously pagan society. The man across from me did nothing but smile and radiate calmness. He wouldn't kill me. I had been given a chance. Despite this realization, I felt uncomfortable during the exchange, even more so after the woman left. It was not until I noticed the cross around his neck that I dared utter a word.

"Maria," I said. He didn't seem to understand me, so I repeated it again. "Ehk eru Maria." The man's eyes went wide, seeming to understand my words, and my dilemma in that moment. He tried to hug me, but I fought him off. Physical contact was not one of my favorite pastimes, especially with a man. Getting dragged across the village by my arm was one thing, but trying to hug me?

Seemingly respecting my boundaries, he put up his hands in deference. He was soft-spoken, not wanting to spook me again. I recognized some of the words he spoke, but I was not certain about what he told me. I repeated some of the words I heard him speak back to him, which seemed to make him happy. I gathered his name was Athelstan, and yes and no seemed to be the same words. Anything else was just too much.

My head started to hurt as he hurriedly wanted to make contact, too eager for my taste. I put a hand up to my head, wanting to stop the pain that flared across my skull. Athelstan seemed to understand and kept quiet for a bit. As the hurting stopped and I removed my hand from my head, I allowed myself to look across Athelstan's home. It was filled with religious artefacts. I stood up and walked around, touching some and avoiding others. Athelstan allowed me to get accustomed with the room. There were religious texts scattered across a desk, some of which I recognized as being in Latin. The paintings on the pages looked fresh. I only touched them with the highest level of delicacy, hoping these would one day be found by archaeologists. They were beautiful. I tried to read some of the words aloud, having been taught in high school. It reminded me of home, which made me feel happy and sad at the same time.

Athelstan got up and stood beside me. He spoke in Latin, but I didn't know what he was saying. Just because I could read and speak the words out loud didn't mean I still remembered what the words meant. I just stared at him, not knowing what to make of this. When he folded his hands together as if to pray, I backed away. The way I knew religion and what people could do in the name of Jesus, I wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

Athelstan didn't seem to understand, though. He walked up to me, worry in his eyes. A familiar sense of panic started to overtake me. I scrambled to get away from him and the heat of the fire roaring inside the tiny house, only finding relief at inhaling the fresh air outside. Athelstan seemed worried and extended his hand to hold me upright. Although well meant, I refused his offer of help and tried to stagger onwards, the presence of a man the least of what I needed right then. I kept on walking and soon reached a beach of sorts, the sand twisting and turning underneath my feet until my head hurt too much to walk any further.

The shock of what had happened was too much. How did I end up back in time? What was this place? Weren't these just very dedicated Amish? I still held doubts over the whole time traveling thing. It just couldn't be. How could it even have happened?

The feel of sand underneath me calmed me somewhat, reminding me of one of the few happy childhood memories I had. As I did when I was a kid, I started drawing lines in the sand. Soon the area around me was filled up, and I needed to move in order to continue. It was only when I sat down again that I noticed Athelstan was still close by, watching with interest as I kept on doodling in the sand. He joined in on the drawings, hoping to connect with me. I wanted to violently shake my head, tell him to stop. I knew that would only lead to another massive headache, so I didn't. He wasn't worth the pain I would feel.

Athelstan started talking slowly, and softly. Listening carefully, I could make out some of the words. He seemed to want to know about my head. I tried mimicking what happened by picking up a rock and pretend smashing it to my head. It was the only thing wrong with me I was willing to discuss at that time. Athelstan tried gesturing out another question, but this time there was nothing about it I could understand. In his desperation he drew a map in the sand and marked where we were. Now I understood. We were still in Norway. At least that hadn't changed. I moved around a bit, removing some of the other drawings to make place. I extended the map considerably, drawing a map of Western Europe as I knew it. Astonishment in his eyes as I included Britain, he seemed hesitant to believe me. I didn't like that look but pushed on. Only when I'd come to Eastern Europe I reminded myself it wasn't good to show off just right now. I'd impressed the man enough, already.

The priest pointed at himself, then at England.

"I am ... North Umbria." I wondered how an English priest could have ended up here, but looking around me the large Viking boats explained it clearly enough. He was a prisoner of war. He was just as much an outsider as me. I pointed at myself, then at what, conceivably, could have been Holland. In response Athelstan seemed to have a brilliant idea. Wiping out the drawings, starting with the map as his eyes were floating to our surroundings. He started drawing the alphabet in the sand, clearly having caught on I could read and write from my earlier doodling. I added numbers and tried my best to ask him what date it was, and he was happy to try and oblige me, although I saw my question raised a multitude of questions at his end. As he stared at the rock, he must have caught my drift. I was unsure how long I'd been out of it, and couldn't tell if it was March, or May. He jotted down the date in the sand. 15-3. Half March, but... What year? I hesitantly added another dash, and three question marks after it. Athelstan drew the number 799. My mind was sent reeling at the discovery of what his doodling meant. My heartbeat was spinning out of control, I had trouble catching my breath. What the fuck had happened at the lake? Why was I sent back over a thousand years? I clutched my head again, feeling a fresh wave of pain rolling over me. Athelstan remained quiet for a bit, then drew a question mark in the sand.

I wanted to scream in frustration, but I wasn't sure if they still burned witches. Or, if they'd started already. If he found out when I came from... He let me calm down a bit, then pointed at one of my drawings. It was a poorly drawn stick figure of a cat. I just stared at him. What could he hope to glean from that?

"Kutr?" I smacked him across the face at his inane comment. How could he think this was supposed to be an image of a cunt? He looked at me like I was insane.

"Kat," I said, redrawing the whiskers. "Cat, Katze."

"Catt, yes. Köttr," he repeated. "Köttr eru." I flushed as I realized he was trying to communicate, not make a lewd comment.

"Köttr," I repeated, then pointed at the dog beside it. "Hond. Dog. Hund."

"Køuærne," he told me.

"Kwouarne?" What the fuck was he saying? My mispronunciation made hem snicker a bit, which he only poorly managed to swallow. He pointed at his tongue, then wrote down a few numbers, going up from one to five. I gathered he wanted to know how many languages I spoke. I underlined the three. Athelstan stared at me for a bit, as if I was some miracle he was trying to understand.

"Norrœna?" he asked. "Englisc?" I took him in, recognizing the last word he spoke. I couldn't very well admit I spoke English now, as it was so much different from the English I knew. He tried to communicate something, pointing at himself, then at me. "Ek kenna yðr." I something you.

"You teach me?" I tried in English, pointing at him, then at me. A smile came to his face.

"Ic álære ditt." It was confusing as he seemed to use two languages when trying to talk me, but I gathered he was going to teach me at least one of those languages.

"You allejre Nor.."

"Ek kenna yðr Norrœna." Norse. He was going to teach me Norse. I nodded, finally understanding. He was to be my teacher. His enthusiasm grew after this short understanding and soon he pointed at things, then wrote a word in the sand. I pointed at the same objects and tried to pronounce whatever he wrote in the sand, often having to repeat the words four or five times before he moved on to the next. Ship, sand, beach, man, sword, water, sun, sky. Or, at least I thought so.

We spent the rest of the day on the beach as I learned a few basic words. Athelstan was just trying to get me to pronounce a word differently - which I completely failed at - when suddenly a shadow overcast our sandy blackboard. I turned around so fast to see who was there that my head started to spin again. It was Ragnar. He seemed to want to know what we were doing, lured in by the weird sounds that we had been making.

From my position on the ground the tall Viking appeared more giant than man. Athelstan and Ragnar exchanged a few words, too fast for me to understand, then left. It all sounded very pleasantly. He looked as if he hadn't heard what he was expecting, but didn't seem disappointed either. When Ragnar was some distance away, Athelstan drew my name in the sand. I wiped it away immediately. He then drew a question mark again, pointing at me.

"Hvat eru yðr nafn?" I hesitated a bit. He wanted to know what to call me. I thought for a second, trying to come up with a name that didn't seem too weird. One came to mind, from a game I used to play. I wasn't sure how to properly pronounce it, but as I'd been failing at that all day, I wrote it out in the sand.

"Ragnhild," Athelstan said.

"Nafn eru Ragnhild," I responded back. "Ek eru Ragnhild." Easy as that, I had changed my name.


	7. Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recent events as seen through Athelstan.  
> 09-03-799

Even after all these years, there were some things I'd rather avoid. The general meetings were one of them. I preferred to stay home and work on my texts, which usually worked out just fine. This time, however, it didn't go as planned.

"Priest!" Torstein came inside, not waiting for my answer. "Ragnar requires you at the Thing. There's something he needs your help with?" I raised an eyebrow at that. Usually, he only needed my attendance for questions about England, or foreign affairs. What could he possibly need from me at a Thing? I put down the quill and got up.

"What does he need me for?"

"Some foreign woman that was found. I don't know. Aslaug sent me to find you." Whatever this was about, I was sure to regret coming over. I followed Torstein out towards the hall. It was packed with men eager to get drunk. I could see their restlessness, but Ragnar seemed to be focused on a small girl in front of him. I couldn't see what was so special about her. Blond hair that fell to her shoulders, light blue eyes, plainly dressed. If Torstein hadn't mentioned otherwise, I'd have assumed her a Viking child.

"My lady," I whispered as I stood behind Aslaug. "You called for me?"

"I did. That girl speaks in strange tongues, or so I've heard. Do you recognize it?" I glanced over at her again, seeing she was trying her best to get some sort of book back from Ragnar. I waited for a bit, and soon I heard her speak.

"No!" The other words were a blur of angry shouts, but that word, that was one everyone here understood. I couldn't tell where she came from, or what she'd said, but I did know Ragnar wasn't spoken to in that tone often, especially since he had become the earl.

"What did she say?" Aslaug asked.

"I'm not sure. It's not a language I know. It sounded like..." I was almost afraid to tell her. "Some sort of demand? Where is she from?"

"That's what he's trying to find out." Then, the girl spat at him. My mouth fell open. The girl was definitely crazy. Her eyes seemed to hold an anger barely any Viking could match. Did the book really mean that much to her? Was it a bible, or some sacred keepsake from back home? It must have been. Her anger only grew as he did nothing.

"Ragnar!" Floki called out. "Get on with it, you're already married! Hurry up so I can get another drink!" Beside me, I felt Aslaug got at least half as angry as the girl, which was still enough to make me feel uncomfortable.

Ragnar didn't want to waste any time and the knife he took from the bag next, holding it up to the light for a moment, suddenly found its way to her throat within the span of a second. The girl didn't even blink as the knife made contact with her throat. The sight mesmerized me. She'd seemed so small, and so insignificant, and here she stood, on feet clearly hurting, wrists bloody from her fetters, defying an earl like Ragnar. The whole hall seemed to hold its breath.

The girl was waiting for something. If she expected him to hand her back that book, she could wait for a long time. Ragnar was not the type to go back on his word, or his actions. If she kept this up, he would kill her.

"Well, aren't you the brave little vixen?" Ragnar asked. "What made you think you'd survive here? I should just kill you right here, where you stand." The girl seemed to lean into the knife a bit at his words. She must have been insane, to go against Ragnar like that. And all the while, she didn't make a sound. Even as a drop of her blood ran down her throat, she didn't do or say anything, other than stand, keeping her eyes locked on Ragnar, and... Just defying him. By doing nothing. I'd never seen anything like it.

"He'll kill her," I whispered. "He'll never stand for something like this." And yet, Ragnar withdrew the knife.

"Let's find out if you will fear me after I work you to the bone," he said with a grin. "I'll get her to talk. Siggy." She dragged the girl away, who seemed lost all of a sudden. Her eyes glazed over a bit, or so I thought. Already, she intrigued me.

"Athelstan." I looked up at the mention of my name. "She had a bag with her, that contained this book. Do you recognize it?" Ragnar held out the strange book to me, making me wonder.

Even the cover was strange. It seemed to be covered by thick paper, thicker than any I'd ever seen. It must have cost a fortune, as it was colored on the outside. The ink on the outside didn't seem faded as much as the pages inside. It must have been some sort of code. The stripes didn't make much sense to me, at any rate. Some were thin, others were thick. Some numbers stood underneath it, only more code. I also recognized some letters, but they didn't make sense to me. I couldn't fathom the words making sense in any language, as they lacked vowels. FSC...

"I've never seen anything like it."

"On the inside," Ragnar said, raising an eyebrow. To him, anything that held letters was strange.

I opened the book and saw how ravaged it was. Barely anything was left, the pages blotted with ink and sticking together as if the book had been through a rainstorm. The few letters I could recognize seemed to form words, but not anything I could understand.

"It's... I don't understand. How does a woman hold such a book? It's damaged, and it must be priceless."

"Is it like one of your religious texts?"

"No..." I hadn't even thought about it. As I leafed through it, I saw there were no pictured or even mentions of Christ. What kind of unholy book was this? "Who is she?" Ragnar's face turned into a broad smile.

"You don't know?"

"Ragnar..." Aslaug was getting tired of our conversation.

"I mean to find out," he said resolutely. "She must come from a distant country. Get her to talk, teach her our language. Make sure she trusts us. I have a feeling she holds a wealth of information we could use." I sighed, knowing there was no stopping him.

"Just because she defied you?" Aslaug asked pointedly. "Should I pretend to struggle as well, to keep your attention?" Ragnar snarled and returned his attention to the waiting hall, leaving me to come up with a way to make the girl trust me. From what I'd seen, that would be very, very hard.

"For what it's worth, the girl hardly seems interested in your god," Aslaug said lazily. "How does that make you feel?" I gritted my teeth, knowing how much she hated Christianity. If only she'd hear me out once, on the principles. Maybe it wasn't too late yet, to save her soul.

"I think the girl is scared, most of all." Aslaug sat back at that.

"What makes you say that?"

"Her very soul seemed to be on fire. She reminded me of a mouse, cornered by a cat."

"I only saw insolence, and trouble on the way."

"With all due respect, your husband seems to think otherwise."

"My husband only sees something new to conquer." Her words made me doubt if he meant her lands or her body.

"I'm sure he wouldn't disrespect you." Her eyes flashed at mine, making me realize she'd meant the other thing.

"She's a slave," Aslaug spat. "If he so much as touches her, I'll have her killed." I didn't hesitate if this was an idle threat. She'd do it if it turned out the girl was a danger to her standing.

"Ugh, what was Ragnar thinking?" Siggy had joined us. "The girl seems to be afraid of her own shadow." Aslaug and I exchanged a look. It seemed my first instinct had been right.

"What makes you say that?" Aslaug asked.

"She shied away from my touch as soon as I even lifted a finger. That girl is going to be trouble."

"Are you sure she's a girl?" I asked warily. "She might be small, but she might just come from a smaller people. I'm rather tall for my own kin." Siggy straightened her back, looking a few inches down on me.

"I couldn't get a look at her hips or her chest. I suppose we'll find out later. It doesn't matter now, anyway."

"But she's definitely not Viking," Aslaug assured us. I wasn't too convinced. Most women would cower before someone like Ragnar, especially when they were brought before him in such a manner. I took my leave and found a fire to examine the book a little further. The ink seemed... Blue? There was some red as well, making me even warier. Had she written with her blood? Was this some kind of satanic guide? Then where did the blue come from?

The pages stuck together too much for any of it to make sense. Even the cover curled up a bit from the water damage.

I closed the book again and went to the back. If Ragnar wanted me to earn the girl's trust, giving her back the book might be the best thing for now.

"Dumb incompetent whore. What's so special about you, anyway?" Tristen was already hacking into the girl, but as I caught sight of her she didn't seem all that affected. He eyes caught me soon after I entered, and she stopped eating as I came closer.

"Don't speak English here, Tristen. You should know better. Don't you have work to do?"

"Just because you are a priest doesn't mean you can tell me what to do." She leered at me but got up all the same.

"I need to speak to her. Leave, before I tell Ragnar you were slacking off again." Tristen took her leave, though she did so sullenly. I smiled at the girl, but she didn't seem to realize I'd done her a favor. In fact, she seemed to grow smaller as I bent down in front of her.

"I am Athelstan," I said deliberately, enunciating the words. "What is your name?" She heard me but didn't respond. She must not have understood me. I tried again in English, but this also meant nothing to her. Sighing, I held out the book. Her eyes lit up for a second, then grew wary again.

"This must be precious to you if you're willing to defy an earl for it. What does it say? Who wrote this?" The girl gingerly took the book from my hand, as if she was unsure if I'd give it back to her. Her eyes found mine, and in that instant, I knew I needed to protect her. Her eyes held the same fear many of the other priests on the boat over from Lindisfarne had carried. Fear for her life, uncertainty, and already a hint of reluctant submission to her fate. If Ragnar were given his chance, he would destroy her. And there were so many things I wanted to know about her. It was a miracle she had even made it this far, not speaking the language or seeming to understand what was going on around her. I got up and decided to head home. I'd need to prepare for her first lesson tomorrow, and she'd gone through enough today already.

The next morning, I woke up excited. I'd get to meet the girl again, this time under fairly less duress. Siggy brought her in after breakfast.

"She's hopeless, best of luck with her. A name would be useful, and teach her some things so she'll understand what I need her to do."

"I'll be sure to let you know when she learns the basics. That could be a while, though. We have no shared language, so it'll all depend on her willingness to learn."

"Then force her, if need be." I sighed as Siggy left, both admiring and cursing the woman. I wasn't surprised she was so hard, but it didn't suit her. A woman as beautiful as she was supposed to be gentle and soft-spoken.

Turning to the girl, I sat up straight, all ready to get started.

"Maria," she suddenly said. I didn't know what to make of it. "Ehk eru Maria." My eyes went wide. She'd understood me last night or had gleaned the meaning of the words to some extent. And her name...

No wonder she had been terrified. A Christian woman, surrounded by all these heathens. I got up and wanted to take her in my arms. She was such a fragile little thing.

Her hands pushed me away, though, making me only more confused. Did she think I was trying to force myself on her? I was a monk. I had taken a holy vow of celibacy, and - was I really, truly, still Christian? How long had it been since I had attended mass, or truly, deeply prayed? This girl must have been a sign. If her name was truly Maria, this was God's way of telling me it was time to come home and abandon these pagans.

I held up my hands, hoping to tell her I meant no harm. She calmed down a bit, then started wandering through my house. I tried not to stare, but she seemed to recoil from the symbols, and drawn towards the texts and paintings.

"Can a mortal be more righteous than God? Can even a strong man be more pure than his Maker?" Did she speak Latin? This girl...

"Who are you?" She stopped speaking. No, she'd been reading. Her lips were pressed shut as if she feared she'd said too much. "How can you speak those words? How can you read? Are you telling me I am right to stay here? God guided both of us here. Surely He will -" Maria jerked back her hand and backed away. She seemed dizzy all of a sudden, taking in sharp breaths. I worried for her, but the closer I got the more severe it seemed to be. For now, I thought it best to leave her be, even as she stumbled outside. I followed at a short distance, not wanting to have to tell Ragnar I'd lost sight of her. This girl...

She sat down on the beach and started pulling her fingers through the sand. I sat down behind her, curious to see what she was - she was writing. A girl and she was writing. And she could read Latin. Mouth agape, I could only watch as she drew very simple figures in the sand. Animals, mostly, and some words I couldn't read. Some were long. She didn't just know the basics. Maria was well-taught. A woman. Who was taught in the ways of the Lord.

I was torn from my staring as she shifted around and noticed me sitting. I drew some things in the sand as well, but she didn't seem to take notice.

"You can read, and write," I started off softly. "You know Latin, but you don't want to pray. You're named after the most famous woman of all, and yet... You are quite the mystery." I glanced at her, seeing her wrists were still covered in bruises and scrapes. "You were hurt?" She frowned at my question. "Your head," I said as I pointed towards mine, then held out a hand at her. She seemed to understand. With a rock in her hand, she mimicked it hitting her head. She must have been hurt for longer, then, if her head still hurt since before she came here.

"Where did it happen? Your injury." More blank stares. At the least, we were communicating somewhat. I decided to draw a map of the area, but it didn't mean anything to her. Perhaps she wasn't as well taught as I thought. She snorted as she recognized it for what it was, and wiped it out, starting over with Norway, and I looked on as she added England. I looked up at her, and she bit her lip for a bit. It made her seem even younger.

Her finger moved through the sand with swift motions, and as I saw what she was doing I lost my breath. Sweden, Russia, the Baltic, Denmark, then Frisia and Francia, even Asturia, Andalusia, and Beneventum. For a moment I thought she'd keep on going, but she halted after a wipe in the sand left from Rome. That was all she knew. Where on the map did she come from, then?

"Ek eru undan North Umbria." She grasped the meaning, then looked around a bit. Her eyes showed pity, somehow. What had she learned about me causing her to pity me? I almost missed she pointed at Frisia. It only made me more curious. I wiped away the map and the other drawings near us. As I wrote down the letters I knew, she added numbers. Just how much did she know?

She seemed to get a little more at ease as she tried to ask me a question, but she seemed unsure of how to ask. Only when she drew question marks in the sand did I catch on. It was a strange way to write it down, but she wanted to know what date it was. The Christian version of it, at any rate. I wrote it down, but she seemed unsure of what year it was as well. Just where had she been, and how long? What must a woman go through to not remember what year it was?

That head injury might've caused her to forget, or at least be unsure of it. My answer did little to assuage her, though. Whatever had caused her to breathe heavily like that, it was huge. I tried to distract her but didn't know how to handle a woman as fragile as her. I pointed at one of her drawings, seeing it was a cat.

"Cat?" I asked. She smacked me in the face. So much for her being fragile. What just happened? She looked to be a little surprised herself. Maria spoke three words, very slowly, all sounding similar. Cat was among them, though she said it with a thick accent. And, in English. The more she spoke, the more I got confused.

"Cat, yes. Köttr. It's a cat." I had to get her to focus on Norse, teaching her English would not please Ragnar.

"Köttr," she repeated, then pointed at the image beside the cat. It was a dog, or so I thought. She said three words again, then looked up expectantly.

"Dog," I provided.

"Dwouagh?" I chuckled, trying to keep it in as I thought back to how difficult it had been to learn Norse, even with someone who I shared a tongue with. Still, it made me wonder. Did she really speak three tongues? That was a lot, even for a man. Even as she confirmed it, I knew something was off. She'd been able to read Latin, but she didn't seem to include it into her count.

"Norse? English?" The words meant nothing to her. "I teach you." With some gestures and words I vaguely recognized, she seemed to get the meaning.

"You tejch Nor..."

"I teach you Norse." She nodded in understanding. We were getting somewhere, slowly. We kept on playing the pointing and naming game, and Maria seemed to enjoy it. She was quick on the uptake of what I meant, even grasping concepts and the difference between sand and beach, though pronunciation was difficult. She would talk with an accent for quite some time.

Maria was scared witless when Ragnar came near, from the moment she'd seen his shadow moving over the sand.

"How is she doing? Does she have a name yet?"

"It'll be a while until she adjusts. It's... Where did you find her?" Ragnar grinned.

"You have some questions of your own, no?" There was a twinkle in his eyes, telling me he was glad to see me confused about her.

"I don't even know where to start. She knows of my god, but she doesn't seem to like him very much. She even speaks His language, or she can at least read it. And write. She knows numbers as well, at least to some extent. But when I tried to teach her the word for cat, she slapped me." Ragnar chuckled, much to my surprise.

"It is very impolite to talk to a girl about her pussy." He grew serious again, ignoring my flushed face. "Has she told you anything worthwhile yet?"

"We don't share a common tongue, it'll be difficult. And most of all, I think she needs to learn she can trust us." He sighed, taking in Maria again. She seemed to disappear into the sand. "But she'll be worth it. Someone taught her to read and write. No woman has ever been taught, not even high-born princesses, as far as I know. She speaks at least three languages, I've heard her speak them all if only a word or two."

"Will she be useful? Does she know about the world?"

"She does," I replied immediately. I cleared my throat as I caught him looking at me warily. "Why else would she be afraid of men? She knows this world, and she has been to many places. You won't be disappointed."

"Then it seems I must be patient. At least try and learn her name before the end of the day."

"I will." Ragnar left again, and I saw Maria was immediately feeling better. No one else was around, and I caught her attention before I wrote her name in the sand. She wiped it away as soon as she read it, shivering as she looked around. I drew a question mark in the sand, and she bit her lip again. Then, slowly and deliberately, she wrote a new name in the sand.

"Ragnhild," I read out loud. She must have read it in a book once if she didn't know how to pronounce it.

"My name is Ragnhild. I am Ragnhild." Already she seemed to start grasping the language. Something irked me, though. Her name... It meant advisor in battle. I prayed to God she wouldn't turn out to become a shieldmaiden. A woman like her, with her skills... She would make sinners of us, all.


	8. Tall Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15-05-799

In general, life in Kattegat was horrible. There was no indoor plumbing or electricity, the mattresses were so bad I wondered how no one seemed to have any back pains, and the food was tasteless. I had to wear long dresses, no one had ever heard of a weekend, so I had to do stuff every day, and of course, I still mourned the loss of my diary.

The worst moment so far had been when I realized I was a slave. As Athelstan had managed to communicate my social standing, I had a full-blown panic attack. Up until then, I had assumed I had to do chores for Ragnar and his wife, to pay back for the lessons Athelstan gave me. I had already figured out I wasn't worth much as I had to sleep in a barn with animals and two other women, but being a slave that got special lessons to learn the language... That explained why the other two women had seemed to hate me from the first moment we met.

Other moments were just weird, like how Athelstan had seemed impressed with my diary. He knew I could read and write, and knew more about the world than most people in the village. He couldn't understand the words even if they weren't all blotched, and the pages clung together. It was the craftsmanship that had caught his attention, as well as the notion it was meant for my thoughts and feelings. Such a wonderful book, filled with something other than the words of Christ? The only thing that seemed to surprise him more was that I didn't seem to practice and share in his religion, despite my knowledge of the subject. Being named Maria, to him I was a puzzle.

The only falling out we ever had was when the priest tried to ask about my family, to which I responded by getting angry and shouting at him. We worked on my language skills, while at the same time we became friends. He was the only one who could understand me fairly well, without having to use crude signs, pointing, and dragging me to places. Ubbe came by every now and then, finding it very funny how I was struggling with pronouncing some words.

After three months, I started having a fair grasp of the basics of the language. I still embarrassed myself daily, much to Ubbe's delight, but I was able to ask for the salt during dinner and understood most of the demands the women had for me. Noticing I seemed to have little skills beside preparing dinner and taking care of the children, I spent most of my time doing just that, as well as clean the hall and feed the pets.

One day, Athelstan looked worried though, almost ashamed. His face turned red as I asked him what was going on. From his ramblings, I understood that Siggy had asked him to translate something she was worried about. I put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"Athelstan. What is wrong?" He took a deep breath and threw it out there.

"Siggy is worried about you because she has not seen you bleed yet. She knows you're not with child, but she also knows you are a woman..." He let his sentence trail off, hoping I had understood enough and had a perfectly reasonable explanation and this entire conversation would be forgotten immediately.

I sat frozen for a moment. How the hell was I supposed to explain there was a piece of plastic in my uterus? Plastic wasn't even invented yet. Birth control might even have been non-existent at this point.

"At least tell Siggy I asked," he told me, misjudging my silence for shame. I sighed deeply and came up with a story so far-fetched, they would have no choice but to believe it. I had been worrying about that thing for a few weeks now, wondering how I was to remove it when it would stop working.

"A curse," I half whispered. I cleared my throat and continued. "No blood, no baby. Not now, maybe one day." The priest lowered his eyes, wanting to comfort me but not knowing how. I let the silence drag a bit, refusing to admit it was a painful one that begged to be broken. Athelstan knew just how to change the subject to cheer me up, though. He got up and pulled my satchel from a chest. I hadn't seen that since the Thing. My eyes filled with wonder, but I didn't want to seem overly eager to get them back.

"What is this?" I thought for a bit, then drew two smileys. The first one was happy and surrounded by stick figures. I pointed at him and the door, indicating what I hoped came across as 'others, normal people'. The second was sad. I drew a lonely stick figure next to the sad one, indicating me. Putting the strip of pills next to my figure, I erased the sad mouth and replaced it with a flat line.

"So, these pills make you happy?"

"No. Less sad." I wasn't sure if he would get the distinction, but having the priest think the pills were some kind of party drug was definitely not a good idea. He still looked a bit uncertain but decided to give me back my supply either way. I thanked him but wasn't sure if I was grateful. It had been so long since I took them, it would take some time to feel their effect again. And it wasn't like I could get a refill somewhere. It was enough to last me two months. I would need to think on it for a while, I decided. I put the strips away in my satchel, pointedly ignoring the sharp knives that lay at the bottom.

That night, Siggy already seemed to know about what I'd told Athelstan. All kinds of people gave me strange looks as if they were calling me out on my bullshit. It made me feel uncomfortable. Still, I needed to help with dinner, sitting in full view of everyone that wanted to take a gander at me. The only one who dared come near me was Hvitserk.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he tried to crawl up the bench. I put down my knife and helped him sit upright before he'd pull on my dress.

"I cook." I put a piece of carrot in front of him, which he gladly started munching on. He knew where to get the good stuff. "How are you?"

"Okay, I guess. I'm bored." I slowly turned to face him, seeing he was looking up at me expectantly.

"You want story?" He nodded, putting his hands on the bench as he tried to scoot closer. The carrot fell from his mouth, making me sigh. I picked it up and threw it in with the other trash, then cut him a new piece.

"Please?"

"Why not play? Why a story?"

"Because I like your stories." I'd never should have told him my ranting at him in my own languages were stories. I’d be stuck with him asking me for them for a long time.

"I can speak poor. I tell no good story."

"I don't care. I like them." He leaned into me, making it a little difficult to keep on cutting carrots.

"Okay," I said with a sigh, causing Hvitserk to grin widely. "What about?"

"Did you learn a new word today?"

"I did. I learn sun, and moon, and star." I'd wanted to focus on other things, but Athelstan must have had his reasons for focusing on things to describe the world today.

"Then tell me a story about those." I thought for a bit, and one came to mind.

"I will try. One time, sun was king, very strong and good. He was powerful, and loved."

"Just like father." I nodded.

"Just like Ragnar, yes. He had beautiful wife as well, the moon. In fact, he had two wive. Two moon."

"There were two moons?"

"You not know? Everyone knows. Two moons, one time. Very big, and very beautiful. Terrible story, about sun king and moon wife. They never touch. It was not allowed."

"Why not?"

"Because cruel fate. Cruel gods." Hvitserk understood enough to nod, enjoying the fact I let him ask questions whenever he wanted to. "One wife says, no more. I want to touch king, my husband. She goes near him."

"And then what?"

"Then moon break, like an egg."

"She died?"

"Yes, she dies. From the moon come thousand a thousand dragon."

"That many? I can't even count that much!"

"I know. Many, many dragon. And dragon drink fire from sun, first breath was sun fire. Then dragon breathes fire and comes to Midgard."

"Like Fefnir?"

"Who is Fefnir?"

"It's the dragon mother's father killed. Sigurd has an image of him in his eye." I frowned at that.

"I think Sigurd has snake in eye. Not dragon."

"They're the same."

"No, they are not. Snake not have..." I flapped out my arms a bit to mimic wings. It made Hvitserk laugh out loud, and he joined in.

"Dragons don't have wings!"

"They do! How they come down and not die if no wings?"

"Because they're amazing! I want to kill a dragon when I grow up!" I cocked my head at that.

"What does dragon do to you?"

"Huh?"

"He takes possession? He kills family?"

"No. He's a dragon. He deserves to die."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"You think dragon deserves to die. Dragon is. Do nothing wrong. I see not why. To me, all life... Gods give life. Why take what gods give?" He didn't know how to respond to that. Thinking deeply, a frown on his face, he finished his carrot.

"Where did all the dragons go?"

"They die. Brave men kill them."

"All of them?"

"Many, not all."

"Why did that happen?"

"Men think dragon deserves to die. You think dragon deserves to die."

"Not if it didn't do anything..." I smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his forehead. He was still so impressionable, and kind most of all. I couldn't fathom him ever being as cruel as his father, or the other men who boasted about the many men they had killed. The little boy was the reason I knew being Viking was something you were taught, not something you were born as.


	9. Slave Squabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29-7-799

Laying on the worn-down furs that served as my bed, I was thinking of what to do with my medication. The only reason I had brought it along was to make sure my blood would become thin, making it more likely I would bleed out as I cut my wrists. Even if that failed, taking all the pills at once would put me in a coma. I would be dead before anyone would have found me. It was as foolproof as I'd be able to make it with my limited resources. And now, with my exit strategy complete once again, I was mostly thinking of how the pills would help me through the worst of my depression, if only for a while.

I had gone from being a suicidal millennial to a suicidal slave in the early middle ages, and yet... I was pulled out of my thoughts as one of the other women came in, sobbing softly.

"What are you staring at?" she bit at me as she caught me looking at her.

"Are you okay?"

"Fuck you." Milly had never cared for me, but seeing her so distraught still made me feel bad for her. I turned around, facing the wooden wall. "Everything comes so easy to you, doesn't it? You get to spend time with the priest while me and Tris have to do everything." I turned back and sat up a bit.

"I'm a slave too," I reminded her.

"Bullshit. If you believe that, you're more stupid than I thought." My jaw clenched at hearing that. I turned around and got up a bit. "You want to deny you're given privileges we're not? How many times have the men used you to fulfill their needs? How much do you really do around here? Have you ever noticed you're the only slave that's allowed to have her own things?" I had noticed, but I figured Siggy wanted me to learn the language first, so she wouldn't have to give me commands using signals. Milly and Tristen were much more pretty than me, and as for my satchel and its contents... That was as much a mystery to me as it was to them.

The satchel was the one thing from the past I could cling to. Or, from the future. I still was a bit uncertain on how I should think about it.

"What's in there, anyway?" Milly asked as she walked in my direction and made to grab for it. I quickly clutched it and held it close. Up close I could see the redness of Milly's eyes and the anger that had replaced her tears.

"It's mine," I told her. She wouldn't have any of it, though. Milly threw aside the furs covering me and started pulling on the bag. "No! Let go!"

"I just want to see what's inside!" She kept trying to wring it out of my hands, pulling on the shoulder strap with fierce determination.

"Stop, you break it! Let go!" Milly called for back-up, and soon Tristen was wrestling my arms from my bag. Tears sprang to my eyes as I lost grip of the satchel, Milly almost falling back as she was victorious. "No, give it back!" Tris kept me down, spitting in my face as I watched Milly going through my stuff.

"No way," Milly gasped as she pulled the smaller blade from my bag. "Tris, look at this! This must have cost a fortune." She brought the blade up for inspection as Tris looked at the knife as well. Being held down by Tris with two women who hated my guts, and the knife so close, I felt true fear. It was like having to face off Ragnar at the Thing. I was scared shitless as Milly sat down on top of me and brought the knife close to my face.

"Maybe we should see how sharp it is," Tris said with a grin. I screamed as Milly got an evil look on her face. No matter if she meant to mutilate me or kill me, it would be painful.

"Shut up," Milly hissed at me as the knife touched my cheek. My breath caught in my throat. I felt the blade move across my cheek. With barely any pressure I could feel the steel biting into my skin. Hot drops of blood trickled down my face.

"Holy shit," I heard Tris say. As Milly raised the knife I tried to break loose, but the women held me in an iron grip.

"Hold still, you fucking princess," Milly said as she punched me in the stomach. I groaned, then let out another scream. She put the knife to my throat, wanting to shut me up again. All it did was make me scream even louder. Someone had to hear me and would come to see what was going on. Someone had to. Otherwise, I wouldn't survive until morning.

"Fucking bitch! If you don't shut up we'll cut your throat," Tris hissed. Before she could make good on her threat, the door to the barn was thrown open wide. I stopped screaming as I saw a figure approach.

"What the fuck is going on here?" his voice demanded. Milly and Tris let me go and dropped the knife on the floor beside me. I cried out all the tension that was coursing through my body, trying to hold back the sobbing and whimpering that was urging to come out. A rough hand grabbed hold of my face. Glancing through my tear-stricken eyelashes, I saw it was Rollo. His face showed no emotion.

"Get yourself cleaned up," he told me. Without another word to either me or the other women, he left again. I just wanted to crawl up and fall asleep, despite the fear of what the other women could still do to me. But I knew what would happen if I didn't follow Rollo's command. I'd end up sobbing like Milly had when she came in earlier.

As the tears still came from my eyes I got up and made to leave the barn. A hand grabbed my arm, hard. The air left my lungs as I feared what was to come.

"Don't you dare tell anyone it was us," Tris whispered in my ear. As I nodded, she released her hold on me. I left the barn quickly, not wanting to stay with the women for any longer than necessary.

Outside I felt a chilly wind blowing across my cheek, making the cut hurt more. I wanted to touch it, feel how bad it was, but I didn't want it to get infected. My best bet was finding the cleanest water available, which was in the great hall.

I slipped through the wooden doors, keeping my eyes down and hastily moving past the tables where men were drinking and shouting, sharing stories and tall tales. I had brought back a few buckets of fresh water this morning and moved towards the barrel where it was kept. I scooped some out with a bowl and threw a splash of water in my face, happy I was out of sight from everyone else. Some pink drops of water fell on my lap. Now daring to touch the wound, it stung at my touch.

"Ragnhild?" My eyes shot to Siggy, whose eyes held a question. She hurried towards me as she saw my face. "What happened?" I was caught. I had hoped to disappear before anyone could have seen me, but I couldn't even do that right. Siggy knelt beside me and grabbed hold of my face, looking intently at the cut across my cheek. As she touched it I winced, wanting to pull back. With a sigh, Siggy shook her head. "Tell me," she commanded. I bit my lip, now being stuck between having to obey and fearing what the other slaves would do if they found out I told someone. I was screwed either way.

Siggy lost her patience with me and dragged me to my feet, pulling me with her to the back rooms where Aslaug was feeding Sigurd. As we moved past the men who were drinking, they fell silent as we moved past them. I wanted to disappear. I felt them staring at me and the wound on my face.

"Aslaug, you have to do something," Siggy pleaded. "Look at what ... have done to her face." I tried to shy away, but Siggy wouldn't have any of it. They were speaking so fast it was hard for me to fully understand what they were saying, using difficult, long words. Usually, they spoke more slowly, if they wanted me to follow their conversation.

"How is this any of … me?" she responded. "Of course the others ... with Ragnar ... I knew this ..."

"She's terrified. If you tell them … she can ... her life. You know as well as I do that this can only go one way."

"If they kill her, they'll be killed as well. They know that."

"And then we'd have to get new slaves and train them. Do you know how hard it is to find … these days?" Aslaug rolled her eyes.

"My husband seems to be … let him deal with this. If he hadn't ... problem to start with." She turned her attention back to Sigurd, ignoring our presence.

"It's your job to make sure the slaves do as they're told," Siggy said angrily. She took hold of my arm again and dragged me away. I knew Siggy wasn't a slave or a mere servant, but hearing her talk like this to Aslaug made me nervous. I didn't need to understand all that was being said to know Siggy was not pleased with how Aslaug reacted. Before we made it back to the hall, Ragnar was already approaching us.

"What's going on?" he asked Siggy.

"The other slaves did this to her. I told you something ... they don't dare … when you're around, but I know how … they are. You letting her … was a bad idea." Ragnar also took hold of my face, looking at the cut.

"It's only shallow. It'll heal."

"And next time they'll ... her throat," Siggy hissed. I could feel her rage building, not wanting to be ignored again.

"They know what will happen if they do that."

"And who do you suppose will have to clean that up? We can't afford to ... them at once. You caused this, now you deal with it." She stormed off, leaving me alone with Ragnar. He let go of my face, then sighed.

"Women," he cursed. I just stared down at the floor, not knowing what to do or say. "I hope you turn out to be …" What could I possibly hope to offer? I knew Ragnar had spared me for a reason, but I still didn't know why. The memory Athelstan had shared of how Ragnar had gotten him drunk once to divulge information about England rose to the surface. Was Ragnar hoping to invade the place I came from? How could I explain I didn't know anything without him being mad at me?

Ragnar also took my arm and dragged me behind him. He put me down on a bench at a table, too close to the men that were drinking for my comfort. They stared at me, and I wanted to run away from their looks. Rollo was among them and gave his account of what had happened. To hear him tell it, he came in just as they were about to strip me naked.

I pushed back the tears that were fighting to get free. After a moment that felt like an eternity under the questioning looks from the men, Ragnar came back with a wet piece of cloth in his hand. He sat down next to me, between me and the men.

"She can do that herself," I heard Rollo say. "I heard her … the barn, the other slaves won't ..." Ragnar turned around.

"And you think it's just the wound that's …? Those … until she … or she dies." I kept my eyes directed at the floor until the feel of wet cloth to my cheek made me shiver. I hadn't wanted to cause such a fuss, I'd only gone here to follow Rollo's command.

"Just let Aslaug or Siggy take care of it. Why would you … that girl anyway? She's just a slave," Floki said, venom lacing his words.

"If she were just a slave I wouldn't have … Athelstan teaching her our language. You know that." What was he expecting from me? Ragnar made it sound like I was some prized possession with lots of information to make him even more rich and famous. I fought the urge to shy away from his touch as he put some sort of paste over the wound. It felt itchy like it was some disinfectant.

"Keep that on until morning, at least. Follow me." I got up and followed Ragnar, not daring to make eye contact with the men in the hall. I just wanted to sleep and wake up back home, in my own time. I wanted to convince myself this was all just a bad dream.

Ragnar pushed open the door to the barn and told me to wait. With the light of the moon pouring in, I could see how he drew his knife and pushed Tris down on her furs.

"If you lay a hand … I will … you do to her, tenfold." I could hear Tris yelp as Ragnar sliced the blade close to her face. As he got up, there was blood on the blade. Was he giving her similar wounds to mine? "That goes for you, too," Ragnar said as he did the same to Milly. What was he doing? They'd think I told on them and take revenge. He couldn't be around to protect me all the time, and as we shared the barn to sleep in...

He walked back to the door, nodding once before he left. It was meant as a comforting gesture, but all I felt was fear and doubt. Tris and Milly whimpered beneath their furs as I walked past them and laid down beneath my own. My satchel was still where it had fallen to the floor before, my diary sticking out half. I put everything back, then changed my mind. I put the shorter of the two knives underneath my pillow, then held the bag close to my body as I tried to fall asleep. The itching of the paste on my face was only part of it. Dark thoughts and horror scenarios about what would happen tomorrow filled my head, making it difficult to relax. Only when I held the handle of the short knife beneath my pillow did I find some rest.


	10. Happy Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-07-799

The next morning, I woke up before the other women and hastily got up. I was not willing to wait for their anger to be unleashed on me while I was defenseless. Even though Ragnar had told me to keep on the paste for as long as possible I washed it off as I came across the bowl of water I'd drawn the night before. In the reflection of the water, I saw the thin line was crusted over and not nearly as red as I thought it would be. It itched a lot less as the paste was off. From what I could see it wouldn't leave much of a scar, if any. That would only make Tris and Milly angrier, no doubt being cut deeper and with a less sharp blade, and not having had the luxury of the paste being applied to the wound.

Ragnar's family was still asleep, so I started my tasks a bit early. Taking out the vegetable rests from last night's supper, I visited the goat pen. As they saw me approaching, they walked up to me. Feeding the goats was one of the least desirable chores as far as Tris and Milly were concerned, and they were happy to shove that responsibility off to me. Little did they know it was one of my favorite things to do. Lucky licked my hand before I could even close the pen behind me, knowing I'd pet him in a bit.

"At least someone's happy to see me," I said with a sad smile. Lucky didn't let off, though, and tried to get my hand on his head. When I pulled away to set the buckets down, he bit the sleeve of my dress and tried to drag me with him. "What's wrong?" I asked him. I clumsily put down the buckets and followed him. Behind the lean-to one of the goats was lying down, physically exhausted, tongue hanging from her mouth. It was Fatty, whose name I now saw was clearly wrong. She was in labor and was having a hard time. I sank down and took a look at how it was going. I could see a tiny hoof sticking out of her, and a lot of blood and slime.

"Don't worry Fatty, I'm here. I'll try and help you." I patted her flank, and as I touched her fur I could feel muscles contracting. The hoof didn't come out any further, though. Fatty was clearly in distress. The baby goat was stuck. Being raised in a tiny farming community, I was no stranger to helping small livestock giving birth. How much different could a goat be from a sheep, anyway?

I waited for another contraction and pulled on the leg, slowly getting it out. It was difficult, and I knew I had to get in there. I slowly brought a hand in, feeling Fatty squirm as I got into her birth canal. I got my fingers between her cervix and the tiny shoulder that was stuck. With the next contraction, as soon as the head was out, the rest of its body slid out with ease. Fatty bleated pitifully, still laying down. She was exhausted, and there were probably one or two still in there. The tiny goat thrashed around a bit, gasping for air. Its nose was covered in snot. I wiped the worst of it off its nose, letting it cough out the slime still stuck in its airways. Soon it bleated, and I was relaxing a bit. With Fatty still lying down, I put the baby goat in front of her, hoping she'd soon start licking it and take care of it. Fatty just sniffed her baby, not sure what to do.

"What are you doing?" I turned around and saw Ubbe looking at what was happening.

"Goat give birth. You want to see?" He stepped into the pen and came close, looking a bit disgusted. "You see before?" I asked him.

"No. That thing looks disgusting." I laughed a bit at that.

"All babies dirty when birth." It felt easy to talk to Ubbe. He didn't judge me all that much for talking the way I did, and if I made a mistake, it was not often replied to with corrections or annoyed looks.

"It looks so tiny." Fatty finally started licking her baby. "Eww, that's gross!"

"That is good. Mother care for baby." I petted Fatty a bit, proud of the new mother.

"Can I hold it?" Ubbe asked.

"No. Mother needs to... bind?"

"Bond."

"Mother needs to bond with her baby." Ubbe carefully stroked the baby goat over its back, pulling back as his hand was covered in slime. With a disgusted look, he wiped it off on his shirt. I'd probably have to clean that tomorrow. Lucky started to nuzzle at my ear, trying to climb on my lap to see what was going on. I pushed him back, needing the room to keep helping Fatty. She started bleating again, indicating the second one was on its way.

"See? The second is here." Ubbe hung in my lap so he could see.

"That looks painful."

"It is." The tiny hooves were still covered in the birth sack. I didn't want to interfere with it if I didn't have to.

"Aren't you going to help her? You stuck your hand in with the first one."

"Mother is fine. Only help if goat is hurt. First goat leg had stuck."

"You still talk weird," Ubbe said, looking up at me.

"I still learn. Norse is difficult. Look, goat almost here." I softly pulled on the sack, and it ripped as the tiny goat thrashed its head around.

"What happened to your face?" I ignored the question, instead clearing the tiny goat's nose and putting it in front of Fatty. The placenta dragged all across the length of Fatty. I didn't know what to do with it, so I just left it for now. I was fairly certain nature would take care of it on its own. The goat started licking her second baby a lot faster. "Answer me. You have to listen to me." I looked at Ubbe, who had a fierce look in his eyes. I wanted to set him straight, but he was right. Unless I was told to look after him, Ubbe could give me orders, as long as they were simple.

"I fight with other women. They hurt me."

"Why didn't you fight back? You're all slaves, you had a right to defend yourself."

"Women are mean. I am lower."

"Still, you should have fought back."

"Do nothing is good. Better," I corrected. Ubbe started petting the firstborn goat again, who had dried up a bit by now.

"But still. It's cowardice," Ubbe insisted. "Always fight back if you can. That's what father taught me."

"Ubbe is not understand. Ubbe is not a slave. Slaves have hard lives. Fighting back is not use." That gave him pause to think.

"Ubbe? Ragnhild? What are you doing there in the mud?" I turned around and saw Siggy standing outside of the pen.

"This goat gave birth to two babies!" Ubbe said with some excitement. "Ragnhild helped deliver them. Look, they're so tiny!" Ubbe almost made off with a baby goat, but I grabbed it from his arms.

"Babies need mother. Siggy sees later."

"But I want to show them! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Ubbe!" Siggy said with a stern voice. "Ragnhild knows what's best for the goats. Come inside and wash your hands. Breakfast's ready." With a scowl directed at me, Ubbe crossed his hands over his chest and left the pen. I got up and walked towards Siggy. She held my face to look at the cut.

"I see you got it cleaned. What did Ragnar do?"

"He cleans, then..." I rubbed a few fingers together. Siggy nodded, she understood me.

"Some healing paste. And then?"

"He goes to barn and tells Tris and Milly stop. Then..." I gestured a knife being used on their cheeks.

"He slashed their faces. How typical."

"Why typekawl?"

"Typical," Siggy repeated, enunciating the word. I repeated it again, sounding almost right this time. "Ragnar did to them what they did to you. It explains why they haven't come out of that barn yet. Go clean up, we'll need someone to serve breakfast." I glanced around to where Fatty lay.

"Goat needs help," I said.

"That goat will be fine. Don't cause more problems than you already have." I bowed my head down and left the pen, doing as Siggy had told me. She was right, and I didn't want to be on her bad side. Siggy was the one to help me out yesterday, even going against Aslaug and Ragnar to make sure I'd be safe.

In the hall, Ubbe was telling Hvitserk about the baby goats, who wanted to run outside to go see for himself. I washed all the visible grime off my arms, feeling desperate to wash them up properly with soap. Instead, all I could do was scrub very, very hard, until Siggy cleared her throat.

"Eat your food first," Aslaug told Hvitserk as he tried to jump up.

"But the baby goats! I want to see! Ragnhild, take me to them!"

"Listen to mother," I told him. "First breakfast, then if she says yes." He looked up to Aslaug expectantly.

"Please, mother! I really want to see!"

"As long as you're careful. But I don't want you touching them, you'll get dirty like your brother." She then turned to me. "Make sure they don't get dirty."

"I will," I told her. After I had served everyone breakfast Tris and Milly came in, looking heavily distraught and trying to hide their faces.

"Oh, stop your complaining," Siggy told them. "You got what was coming for you. Ragnhild already took care of breakfast, on her own, so you can clean up." Milly tried to protest, but Tris hit her elbow into Milly's ribs.

"Yes, mistress," Tris said. I had never seen her this subservient. They gave me a dirty look as they moved past me, bumping into me on purpose.

"Don't bully her like that!" Ubbe shouted at them. "You hurt her yesterday, and I don't like that. Stop it, now!" I paled at that. This was exactly the kind of thing Siggy had warned me about.

"How do you know that?" Aslaug asked her son. Siggy now shot me a warning look, and I looked at her with a guilty look on my face.

"I made her tell me when she was helping the goat deliver the babies."

"Can we go see the goats now?" Hvitserk interjected.

"Shush, Hvitserk. Ragnhild, is this true?" Aslaug looked at me intently. Tris and Milly looked ready to murder me, while at the same time raveled in the fact I was getting told off. I touched my cheek absent-mindedly, not knowing how to respond.

"Why don't you fight back?" Ubbe said, looking at me as if he couldn't believe I remained silent. "I made you tell me, and now you can't even tell mother?"

"I don't want trouble for you," I told him. It was easier to talk to Ubbe than it was to admit to Siggy and Aslaug. I just wanted all of this to disappear. I didn't like being put in the spotlight like this.

"You'll just take the blame? You're pathetic!"

"Ubbe!" Aslaug said, fire shooting out of her eyes. "You can't talk to her like that! Ragnhild may be a slave, but you will respect her choices. Now sit down and finish your meal."

"What's going on?" Ragnar came into the hall, looking confused as to why his son and wife were yelling at each other. Aslaug tried to explain, but Ubbe kept interfering with his account.

"Ragnhild, take the boys outside," Siggy told me in a hushed tone. The boys heard, however.

"Can I go see the goats now?" Hvitserk asked. Ragnar nodded, not paying attention to his sons jumping up and dragging me outside. I was glad to get out of the hall but worried about what would happen afterward.

Fatty was still lying in the corner behind the lean-to, with the two baby goats feeding on her milk. Her belly looked empty, she had only carried two.

"Let babies eat first, yes? Then play." The boys knelt down in the mud before I could tell them not to, then I just shook my head as I resigned to having to clean the clothes soon. Aslaug would probably scold me for it, but right now I had more important things to think of. I emptied one of the buckets the other goats had knocked down as they had been getting to the food inside and filled it with water from the trough. Fatty needed to drink something.

As I put the bucket in front of her I tried to put her to her feet, so she could reach the water. Fatty seemed to resent me but drank eagerly as I kept her upright. She was too tired to fight me.

"What's that?" I looked up and saw Hvitserk point at the afterbirth that still hung from Fatty's behind.

"That's err..." What was it called in Norse? "That's normal. I clean after Fatty drinks water."

"Who's Fatty?"

"The goat. I name them."

"Why would you give them names?" Hvitserk asked.

"Because I like them. The goats are happy I feed them. I play with them when I have time."

"Is this one called Happy?" Hvitserk asked, pointing to the firstborn goat. His fur was brown with flecks of white. I must have misspoken, but it was as good a name as Fatty and Lucky.

"Yes, that is Happy."

"What is the other one called?"

"Do you want to name him?" His eyes lit up. Out of his mouth came a string of syllables I was unable to repeat.

"You can't call a goat that," Ubbe said very dignified. "He's a god. You don't name a goat after a god."

"Sleipnir?" Hvitserk then asked.

"The goat doesn't have eight legs. That makes no sense. How about Floki?" A mighty grin came to Ubbe's face. I groaned a bit on the inside. This would no doubt lash back on me once word got out.

"Will Floki mind?" I asked the boys.

"Of course not. It's a joke. Floki loves jokes." Fatty had gotten her fill of water and was now able to stand on her legs for a bit.

"If it's a boy, why not? But it is no sense if the goat is a girl goat." Happy and possibly Floki started walking around a bit, still very wobbly. They wagged their tails as the boys petted them, Hvitserk barely tall enough for the baby goats to reach up to his waist. "Let's see what they are," I said as I lifted up Floki. It was a boy.

"This is Floki," I told the boys. He thrashed in my arms, and I quickly put him down. Hvitserk hugged Floki, who bleated a little in distress. "Not so much," I told him, after which Hvitserk loosened his grip a bit. Floki now seemed content with the attention Hvitserk gave him. "He likes you," I told him. Happy was very different from his brother. He butted his head into my chest as I held him in my arms, enjoying the warmth that came from my body. I scratched his head and he bleated happily.

"Happy is a good name for him," Ubbe said. "He is very happy to be held." I laughed a bit as he tried to nibble on my nose. Lucky came looking what all the excitement was about and sniffed at the little goat in my arms. Ever the climber, he jumped on top of my shoulders. He was heavy, though, and I almost fell over.

"Even the goats walk all over you," Ubbe said with a scoff.

"You want to help," I told the boy as he stroked Happy's fur. Lucky pushed off my shoulders and jumped on top of the lean-to. "But it is difficult. I obey Ragnar, Aslaug, Siggy, you, and other slaves. Sometimes I can obey one, but not obey other at same time. I get punishment. I choose less punishment."

"Can't you just explain it to us, when something like that happens? That sounds very unfair."

"It is. Not all time I know what is right. Not all time I speak the right words. Not all time I have choice. The life of slave is unfair."

"Then why don't you run away?"

"I have nothing. No language, no money, no clothes. I have what Ragnar and Aslaug give me."

"Okay, then I release you. You're a free woman now." Despite his fierceness to make me defend myself, Ubbe obviously cared about me. Still, I needed to be firm.

"You can't," I told him.

"Why not? I own you, too. And I release you." I pulled him close and kissed him on his forehead.

"You are kind. But you can't. Only Ragnar or Aslaug can do that."

"Then I'll talk to them." He made to leave, but I got hold of his arm.

"Ubbe, don't. I know you want to help, but it gives me problems. I am happy here, with you, and Hvitserk, and Sigurd, and the goats. You make me plenty happy."

"You're really satisfied being a slave?"

"What is that word? Saete..."

"Satisfied," I repeated it back a few times until the strange sounds came out right. Hvitserk laughed at me, repeating the word without trouble.

"Showoff," I told him in English, putting out my tongue at him.

"What does that mean?" Ubbe asked.

"It means your brother likes to look better, knows more than me." Hvitserk pushed me as he heard what I'd just said to him. He caught me off-balance, and I fell backward with Happy still in my arms. I just laughed at it, I loved playing around like this with the boys.

"I'm sorry Hvitserk," I said as I got up a bit. Happy jumped around on my chest a bit, then went back to his mother. His tiny hooves barely made an impact. "You know I care for you, yes? I make a joke." He couldn't keep his scowl on for long, then went back to petting Floki.

"You're weird," Ubbe said, shaking his head.

"Yes, I am. Weird and strange. And happy." In that moment, I meant it. Goofing around with the boys and the goats, learning the language, I felt like I had found a very weird place to call home. As long as I could have some of these uninterrupted moments, I could bear through the bad ones. I knew I was in for trouble though, and I thought it better to go find out what it was before someone had to go find me again.

"Try to stay clean. I have to work." Hvitserk tried to pick up Floki, but he failed miserably and fell face down in the mud. Floki only made it worse by walking over his back. Ubbe laughed, but as Hvitserk lifted his head and started crying, I picked him up and put him on my hip. I used some of the nearby water to clean off most of his face.

"Oh, it's okay," I said as he pressed his face to my chest. "Don't cry."

"Floki is stupid!" he shouted. "I don't want to play with him anymore!"

"What did I do this time?" I turned around with a start. It was the human Floki. He leaned on the fence, looking very interested in what was going on.

"Hvitserk named one of the baby goats Floki," Ubbe explained.

"Why would you even name a -" He saw me standing and shook his head. "Never mind. What happened?"

"Hvitserk fell down when he tried to grab the goat, but he fell down. And then the goat walked over him. It was hilarious." Ubbe still carried a satisfied smile.

"Is the kid okay?" Floki asked me.

"Yes, he just has a scare. I clean him up now." I remembered I still had to clean off Fatty, but she looked content as the placenta had dropped to the ground, and she was munching on it. I looked at her in disgust for a second, then turned back to Floki.

"Ragnhild helped give birth to them. It was so disgusting to see her hand disappear inside the goat," Ubbe told Floki. He gave me a curious look. "From what I gathered the goat was stuck."

"I live near a farm long time. I help sheep a lot. Goats are not a lot different." Somehow I felt like he didn't quite believe me.

"Is Ragnar around?" Before I could answer, Ubbe piped up.

"He's fighting with mother again, about her." I hadn't known I had become a recurring theme and felt a blush warming my face. No doubt coming inside with Hvitserk and Ubbe covered in mud would not make for a compelling case on my behalf. Floki just giggled. He signaled Ubbe to come with him. I followed, Hvitserk still in my arms. His crying had now gone down to sobbing. He hadn't shed a tear, a clear sign he was just shocked, and not so much frightened or sad.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up, you dirty little monkey," I told him. "Your mom will kill me when she sees you like this." I always found it easy to talk to Hvitserk in a language I knew. Not having to fumble for words was a welcome distraction every now and then. Hvitserk didn't necessarily understand me, but hearing my voice seemed to calm him down a bit.

As I entered the hall I couldn't hear any fighting, but the tension was still thick in the air. My normal sneaking inside and keeping my head down wouldn't work this time, not with Hvitserk in my arms. He tried to put his fist in his mouth, but it was still dirty.

"No, Hvitserk. You are dirty." I grabbed hold of his hand before he could reach his mouth. Feeling like he'd been scolded, he turned away from the world and found comfort in my chest. "I know, I am unfair," I comforted him, putting a hand on his head.

"What happened?" Aslaug asked me. Her voice was like ice, chilling me down to my bones.

"I told you, mother. Don't be so mean to her." Was Ubbe really fighting for me? I had meant to dissuade him from fighting for me, but apparently, he took it to mean I couldn't fight for myself.

"Ubbe," I softly said. He looked at me, confused about why I would stop him defending me. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! You won't fight for yourself, and now you won't let me fight for you! Do you even want someone to fight for you?" I glanced around, seeing very mixed expressions. Ragnar was obviously pleased at his son, but Aslaug seemed ready to burst into flames. Floki was widely grinning, and Siggy had a hand to her face in disbelief. And everyone was looking at me. I sank down to Ubbe, looking him in the eye.

"Ubbe, I tell you. It is hard. I don't know how to tell you better. Listen to your mother." He tried to shove me aside but lacked the strength to move me. As he ran out of the hall I could see angry tears in his face. He didn't understand anything that was going on. I wanted to go after him, but I still had to face the wrath of Aslaug. I turned to face her and saw her eyes were narrowed, which was never a good sign.

"I told you to make sure they would stay clean," she hissed. "You can't even do that."

"Go clean him up," Ragnar said, dismissing me for now. With my eyes cast downward, I quickly walked to the back and started undressing Hvitserk.

"Do you have any idea how … already?" I heard Aslaug shout. "I don't care what you think she's worth, I want her out!" Ragnar responded in a soft voice, I couldn't make out what he said.

"Come Hvitserk, let's leave them to it. You don't need to hear this." I carried the little boy towards a barrel of water, drew a bowl and got some cloth. Most of the dirt only clung to his face and hands. Trying to ignore the fight Aslaug and Ragnar were having over me, I started cleaning Hvitserk's face.

"Of course I can see that, but you're about to go off again, and then I'll be stuck with her!"

"Is mommy mad at me?" Hvitserk asked.

"No, of course not!" I told him. "Aslaug is mad at me."

"Is it because I got dirty?" I didn't want him to feel guilty, but I didn't want to lie to him either.

"Mother ask me to keep you clean."

"But you didn't make me dirty. The goat did." I just kept silent, cleaning off his arms. When he was clean I put him down to get him some fresh clothes. As I turned around, I saw the boy had gone. I heard his voice pipe up in the hall. The blood drained away from my face. I didn't want to face Aslaug, but I had to get the boy out of there and dress him. As I saw him running to his parents in his underwear, telling his mother off just like Ubbe had before, my heart sank. I would be in a world of pain. Hastily walking towards him I wanted to scoop him up and bring him back again, but Ragnar took his son into his lap, pleased with the fire that his son spat out. Floki raveled in the words of the little boy, whereas Siggy seemed mostly divided. I knew she didn't like the way Aslaug treated me, but she couldn't very well go against her with Ragnar and Floki present, and more importantly, me.

"What have you been telling my boys?" Aslaug said, turning to me. If I thought she was mad at me before, I was sorely mistaken. "Are you pitting them against me?" I hated it when people accused me of falsehoods. She had been right to scold me over the boys getting dirty again, but this was just too much. By keeping silent on everything I had only made it worse.

"I tell them the truth," I said defiantly. "I tell Ubbe and Hvitserk only the truth. I tell Ubbe I fight with Tris and Milly. He sees and ask," I said, pointing to my cheek. "I tell Hvitserk you are mad on me, not him." Aslaug rose to her feet, but Ragnar stopped her.

"She spends so much time with the boys, it's only natural they care about her. Didn't we raise our boys to fight for what they believe in? Isn't that what they're doing right now?"

"You act like I never take care of them myself," Aslaug bit back. "You talk as if that slave is just as much their mother as I am."

"Is she?" Ragnar responded. I groaned internally, this fight was obviously one they'd had more often. And I was caught in the crossfire. "They might call you mother, but who do they run to when they fall down and hurt themselves?" I realized with a start Ragnar was right. Aslaug was often busy with her tasks as his wife, and I had often bathed the boys and was the one to tell them bedtime stories, the one they came to when they were hurt. I had only been here for a little over four months, but they came to me for fun new games when they got bored. Especially Hvitserk was fond of crawling on my lap when I was helping with cooking.

"How dare you," Aslaug said, her voice low and menacing. She slapped Ragnar in the face and stormed off. I felt so uncomfortable I wanted to run out myself. Siggy followed after Aslaug, no doubt wanting to comfort her friend despite their disagreements.

"Don't worry about her." I looked up as Ragnar spoke up. "I know she's not a bad mother, but she can't resent you for the affection you get from my sons. And I know you care for them, too." I didn't know how to respond. So much had happened in the last 24 hours, I just wanted to lie in bed and wait for tomorrow. Ragnar got up and handed Hvitserk over. As I put him on my hip, he inspected the cut on my cheek. "I don't think it'll leave a scar. Unlike those other two. Have they tried anything?" I shook my head. Ragnar seemed pleased to hear it. "I have some important things to discuss with Floki. Can you get that one dressed and see if you can find the other one? I'm sure he's gone hiding near the edge of the forest."

"On the beach, I think. There is a rock he likes."

"You seem to know them even better than me," Ragnar said with a smile. I lowered my head a bit, then took my leave. I was glad to get out of there, but I still felt uneasy with how things were left. Hvitserk seemed to notice my distress, as he let me dress him without much difficulty. Meanwhile, Sigurd had woken up and was wondering where his mother was.

"Oh, honey, don't worry," I told him. "Your mom has other things to do." He wouldn't calm down, though, and I picked him up to see if he needed to be changed. He didn't smell but still kept crying. Only when I held him and walked around, rocking him a bit, he quieted down. Sigurd didn't want to be put down again, though, and made to clasp at my dress. I sighed, not wanting to have to drag him with me as well as I went to look for Ubbe. I couldn't get him to calm down though, and resigned myself to my fate. I had gotten very good at that, somewhere along the way. Sigurd made an even bigger fuss as I put him in something warm enough for outside, but once again grew calm as I held him. Hvitserk seemed intrigued with his little brother, trying to talk to him a bit. He barely used any words I didn't understand. That made me smile. Baby talk was of all centuries, apparently.

"We go to Ubbe now," I told him. He insisted on walking himself, and even refused to hold my hand. All the carrying him around had made him feel like a baby.

Ragnar looked up, looking a little surprised I had Sigurd in my arms.

"He cries when I not hold him," I explained. Satisfied with the explanation, Ragnar nodded and turned back to Floki. They were speaking in hushed tones, and I didn't take the effort to try and listen in.

As I had guessed, Ubbe was sitting on a rock mostly out of sight from the rest of the village.

"Can we sit?" I asked him. He wiped his sleeve across his face, then nodded. He'd been crying. I sat down next to him with Sigurd still in my arms. He was fussing a bit but calmed down as I put a pinky in his mouth.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked him.

"Yes. I stood up for you, and you just sided with my mother."

"Your mother owns me. I must obey her."

"That's stupid."

"It is," I agreed. "But I fight with her when you go." Ubbe couldn't believe what I said. "I tell her I tell you the truth. And I tell Hvitserk the truth. You are not stupid. And I don't lie."

"What did she do?"

"She walks out."

"Walked," Ubbe said, stressing the suffix.

"She walked out," I returned.

"Is she even more pissed off now?"

"Yes. Ragnar tell - told?" Ubbe nodded. "Ragnar told me she is jealous."

"Why would my mother be jealous of you? You're a slave."

"She thinks you love me more. She worries I take over."

"That's ridiculous. She's my mother. Of course I love her. I just don't like how she treats you."

"I know. Some time tell her that." Hvitserk had taken to chasing seagulls across the beach, making me smile despite the difficult conversation I had with Ubbe.

"If my mother frees you, would you still want to spend time with us?" Looking down, I didn't see anything left of the strong defiant boy who had tried to defend me so fiercely. He was just an uncertain boy who wanted to be comforted. He had tried to stand up for me, and I had let him down, making him doubt our bond. I removed my pinky from Sigurd's mouth and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close.

"Of course. I care for you, and your brothers." Ubbe leaned into me, relaxing a bit. "I am here for you." I couldn't find the words to tell him exactly what I meant, but he seemed to understand nonetheless. I couldn't imagine a life in this strange world without these boys in my life. Sigurd started fussing again but calmed down as I started swaying a bit. Like his big brother, he just wanted to feel included, and needed a little certainty every now and then.

"Don't tell anyone I cried," Ubbe said in a hushed voice.

"What? I see no tears. You not cry... cried? You are a man. A son of Ragnar. If you do, I don't care. I see no tears, I don't judge. I see only Ubbe, who fights for me. You can be sad, I won't tell others." He wrapped his arms around my waist, pushing his face in my side. I kissed him on his head, gently stroking his hair. It must have been hard for him, getting told off for crying whenever he was sad. Being raised by parents who told me off for showing emotions as well, I knew the damage that could inflict on a child that young. If I could show him it was alright to cry or be sad, even if it was only with me, that would help him grow up into a balanced person who knew how to deal with his feelings.

Hvitserk grew tired of chasing down birds and climbed on the rock behind me and put his arms around my neck. With the three boys all clinging to me for one need or another, I smiled. Ragnar was right, the boys cared for me. No matter what Aslaug wanted to do to me, I could always count on them to cheer me up.


	11. Defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-08-799

Aslaug must have had a good conversation with Ragnar, as well as with her sons, because in the days that followed she just mostly ignored me, only talking to me to issue orders. The big explosion I was waiting for didn't happen. Even Tris and Milly kept their distance. It felt a bit lonely, but Siggy seemed to still like me at least somewhat, and the boys were a pure delight. Ubbe and Hvitserk loved to come with me as I fed the goats, wanting to play with Floki and Happy. Fatty had recovered well, and her babies grew like cabbages. Floki was content with Hvitserk's attention, but Happy mostly clung to me. He loved to jump around and climbing on top of things, just like Lucky. Judging by their fur, Lucky could very well be the father.

Even after the men left to go raiding, the truce between the other women and me seemed to last. I still spent a lot of time with Athelstan, improving on my language and tackling some of the more difficult grammar so I would be able to form longer sentences than a toddler. We also spent time talking to each other, about the strange customs here and where we came from. My answers were a bit vague, something I had trouble hiding now my language skills grew better fast.

The workload had become less as the men had left, but some things were still the same. I was set to scouring the tables in the great hall when I heard a body drop to the floor. Hvitserk began crying. I walked up to him to see if he had a scratch from falling to the floor. It was when I saw the body of Ubbe lying on the ground that I broke out into a run. The strips that held my antidepressants were opened. My heart sank, the pills were nowhere in sight. Ubbe must have gone through my satchel and found them.

I cried out for help, cursing my lack of vigilance. Hvitserk's crying only got worse as I put my fingers down Ubbe's throat, hoping he would throw them up. How much had he taken? The tiny body spasmed as he spat them up. I kept putting my fingers back in his throat until I was sure he had thrown up all he could. I listened to his breathing and tried to take his pulse, which was weak at best.

"Hvitserk! Hvitserk! Get help. Get Siggy. Get Aslaug." Still crying, the boy stumbled away.

"Please, Ubbe, don't give up on me. Don't you die," I whispered. His tiny body seemed so fragile. I kept a tight watch on his heart rate until I didn't feel it anymore. Even putting my hand on his chest, there was nothing. I had to do something. I couldn't let him die. I pushed my hands into his chest, starting CPR. I felt a few of his tiny ribs crack under the pressure. Tears started to roll down my face as I sang Staying Alive in my head to keep a rhythm.

I breathed into his mouth in between the pushing, hoping to limit any brain damage due to a lack of oxygen. I couldn't stop. There was no emergency line for me to call, or anyone to help me. I knew it was a long shot to even try this, but Ubbe had always fought for me. I had to help him now, I had to give it my all.

"Ragnhild? Why is Hvitserk - Ubbe!" Siggy and Aslaug came running. Just as I breathed into his mouth again, Ubbe started coughing. He cried out loud, filling his lungs with air. Aslaug tore me away from the boy and made to take him into her arms, but I put my hands above his body protectively.

"No! He is hurt!" In my panic I wasn't able to find the right words. I pointed to his ribs and made a gesture as if to snap a branch. Not knowing what had happened, she slapped me in the face with such a force I fell back on the floor. This was not the thanks I had thought I'd receive from her. Siggy bowed down to see if I bled. Her head turned back to Ubbe, not knowing what to make of all this.

"Ubbe ate them," I said as I pointed towards the pills and vomit that lay beside me. "His heart stopped. I helped him breathe."

"You saved him?" I nodded, my eyes downcast. Siggy took me in her arms and hugged me tightly. She kissed me on the brow, comforting me if only a little. Aslaug made to scream at me again, but Siggy told her the story I had tried to convey. She gingerly put her hands on Ubbe's face, not knowing what to do. Siggy let go of me and left the hall, probably getting a doctor to look after Ubbe. With his mother preoccupied fussing over Ubbe, Hvitserk crawled up to me, also in need of some comfort. I stroked his head absent-mindedly, wondering how much trouble I was in. I shouldn't have let the pills lying around, this was my fault. I should have known Ubbe would sniff around my satchel if I left it unattended.

"You did good, Hvitserk. You saved his life, too."

"He just fell down. Was it because of the sweets? He didn't want to share." I closed my eyes for a second, not wanting to think what would have happened if both of them would have collapsed.

"Those weren't sweets. Everything will be alright, now." I started to hum a children's song I remembered, more to calm me down than Hvitserk. It worked for a bit until I saw Ragnar walking in. Siggy was with him, rapidly speaking about something. Some other people I'd never seen before followed them in. They stayed back a bit while Ragnar took in the situation. Ragnar took a look at Ubbe, then picked him up with a delicacy I had not expected of a man so huge. He laid Ubbe down on his bed. Then he turned to me, ignoring Aslaug. Still holding on to Hvitserk, I gazed up at him.

"You saved my son's life. For that, I am indebted to you." He took hold of my face and kissed me on my forehead. This had not been what I had expected. He'd always been more kind to me than any other slave, but to have him treat me like an equal, like this...

Ragnar moved over to Aslaug and took her away, turning to the strangers. Siggy left the hall in some hurry. Were they not worried for Ubbe? Couldn't they give him anything for the pain? What if he'd lose consciousness again? Was his heart strong enough to make it through? Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I took a deep breath and got up. I wanted to check on Ubbe, who was still whining softly. I felt so guilty as I sat down beside him.

I brushed the hair from his face, holding his hand. He looked nothing like the exuberant, fierce child I had come to know. I sang to him softly, more to assuage my own guilt than his pain. The hall grew louder, doubtlessly filling up with men also just returned from the raid. I was a bit surprised when Floki sat down next to Ubbe on the other side of the bed. I stiffened a bit as a hand appeared on my shoulder, it was Athelstan's. Floki cut through Ubbe's shirt with a blade, examining the bruising that started to appear on his chest. He shot a curious glance at me, then returned his attention to Ubbe.

I had lain on the floor like that once, and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt wash over me. An ambulance had come to pick me up, and all sorts of tests were done to make sure I'd survive. After that, hours and hours of counseling to determine if I'd wanted to kill myself, or if it had been an accident. I couldn't do any of the tests for Ubbe, but I knew there were still some things we needed to do.

"Come on, there's nothing you can do here." Athelstan pulled a bit at my shoulder, indicating I should get up. I felt myself resisting as I tried to remember what medications I'd been given, and what would be a suitable replacement here.

"No, I have to stay. He could still die."

"What did he eat?" Floki asked as he carefully went over Ubbe's ribs. Those were the least of his concern right now.

"A kind of - fuck, I don't know the word. Err, snakes have it. When they bite."

"Poison?" Floki's eyes went wide, looking at me as if I were deranged. "You let him near poison?" He jumped off and ran away, making me fear for my life.

"Ragnhild, how did you even find poison?" Athelstan asked as he sat down next to Ubbe as well, keeping his voice low.

"It's not poison, it's medicine," I bit back. "Those things that make me less sad, they work like that when you take one a day. Ubbe took too much for his age and weight. I could've lasted ten days on what he swallowed. He took them from my bag when I was cleaning the hall."

"Then how do you know what to do?"

"Because I took too many once. Where did Floki go?" Ubbe opened his eyes for a bit, groaning as he tried to breathe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Oh, my sweet Ubbe... I should have been more careful. Do you feel dizzy?"

"A little..."

"That's okay, Floki is getting help, I think. Tell me if breathing becomes even harder, okay? I know it hurts, but if it gets harder you tell me." He nodded in the most pitiful way.

"What do you mean, you've experienced this before?" Athelstan softly said. I kept my eyes on Ubbe, smiling down at him to try and keep him calm. As I held his hand I noticed he had a slight tremor. There was still plenty of the pills that was working its way into Ubbe's blood stream. He needed something to absorb the pills, and fast.

"Not now. Is there burnt coal around? He needs to eat some. Sooner is better."

"What?" Before he could ask me what I meant Floki was back, with an entourage. Ragnar was there as well, looking both scared and angry. Right now, I had worse things to fear than his wrath, however.

"Good, you're back," I said as Floki came towards me. "He needs to eat burnt coal, as much as he can. There's still poison in his stomach." A woman rudely pushed me aside, making me confused.

"You've done enough," Floki spat.

"We'll need to bleed him," the woman said sternly. I gasped as I realized she could kill him. With his heartbeat already so low, cutting his veins would only make it worse.

"The fuck you will!" I said as I got up, trying to wrest the knife she already had in her hands out of her control. "His blood pressure is low enough as it is, you want him to die?" Ragnar interfered and grabbed hold of my wrists.

"Ragnhild," I heard Ubbe wheeze. His breathing was getting more labored.

"Ragnar, she's had the same thing happen to her, once. Maybe she can help," Athelstan tried. Ubbe held out his hand to me, which must have cost him a tremendous amount of effort. I wrestled free from Ragnar's grasp and knelt down beside Floki, ignoring the old cunt that had pushed me aside.

"I'm here Ubbe, I won't let anything happen to you." I took his hand and stroked his fingers with my thumb. Very carefully I put my hand underneath Ubbe's back, and I could feel how ragged his breathing was. He winced at the pressure it put on his ribs, making me sick with worry. This wasn't boding well, he could slip away again. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get his heart working again a second time. Athelstan kept trying to talk to Ragnar, but I didn't take the time to look at the others to see what they were up to. I only kept a close watch on Ubbe, my eyes flitting over to the woman every now and then to see where she'd put her knife.

"You will obey me, slave," Ragnar said as he realized I wasn't joking around. I just ignored him. "Let go of my son."

"Where the hell is that charcoal!" I shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. "The poison will go in there instead of his blood, he needs it to survive!" Floki tried to drag me away, but I wouldn't budge. Only when the woman raised her blade again did I put an elbow to Floki's chest and stopped the blade the only way I knew how to. I grabbed hold of it.

"Enough!" Ragnar shouted. Floki stopped trying to get me to back off, but I wouldn't let go of the knife. My blood was starting to run down my arm and soaked Ubbe's shirt, but I didn't care. All I knew was that if I let go, Ubbe could die.

"Drop it," I hissed again. "I won't let you kill him."

"You don't know what you're doing," Vinh hissed back.

"Both of you, stop it!" Ragnar pulled the knife from Vinh's hands, cutting through whatever was left of my skin. I gasped as the knife bit into my skin but refused to back down. "This bickering won't save my son." As my eyes flashed towards his, I saw just how scared he was of losing his boy. He didn't know what to do, between the healer he had known for years, and the strange girl he owned that seemed to know exactly what she was doing somehow. Focusing on Ubbe again, I tried to calm him by pulling his attention towards me. His eyes went all over the place, trying to find out what would happen next. He was just as confused as the others.

"Ragnhild!" I softly stroked Ubbe's cheek as I held my bleeding hand to my side.

"Step away from my son."

"She knows how to deal with this," I heard Athelstan say. "This is caused by something she brought back here with her, and she knows how to treat it. You saw how she fought for him, do you really think she'd try and hurt him? She saved his life once already." Ragnar grunted, obviously not pleased with what had been going on here. As long as Ubbe was safe, I didn't care.

"Vinh, have you ever used burnt coal to heal poison?" Panic was slowly seeping through Ragnar's voice, not knowing what to make of such an insubordinate slave going against him, in front of his dying son.

"I have," she responded, proud to be called on. "After the bleeding, he'll need some." I scowled at her, not liking this one bit. When I turned back to Ubbe, I saw he was getting weaker. "First the poison needs to flow out." I balled my cut hand, not believing the stupidity of the woman.

"Well then, somebody go get some!" Ragnar called out. "How much does he need?"

"Just a bit," Vinh said.

"As much as he can stomach," I responded. "It eats the poison, more is better."

"It only serves to settle the stomach," Vinh snapped.

"It only serves to help him live," I bit back.

"Ragnhild! You're in enough trouble as it is. You will let Vinh do her healing." Only being so close to Ubbe himself, caring for him and trying to calm him down, was what prevented him from dragging me away himself.

"I won't stand by while she kills your son," I warned him.

"Perhaps a human sacrifice will make the gods smile on poor Ubbe," Vinh said with a grin. I wouldn't let her scare me off.

"Are you volunteering?" Before she could respond, someone brought charcoal in. Without hesitation, I pulled one of Floki's axes from his belt and crushed the coal into smaller bits. The sooner he'd get some inside, the greater his chances for survival would be.

"He needs some water," I told no one in particular. "Ubbe, sweety, this is the most disgusting thing you'll ever taste, but I need you to eat as much as you can, okay?"

"I'm scared," he whispered, his eyes trained on me for comfort.

"I know. I'm scared, too. Can you try and eat this?" I put some of the charcoal in his mouth, and he made a face as he tasted it. Still, he chewed it as best he could and swallowed. Floki handed me a horn of water, and I carefully let some drop into his mouth.

"Ragnar, it won't do any good unless I bleed him first!" I heard Vinh whine. I just kept on feeding Ubbe the coal, and as Ubbe was chewing the third batch I saw Ragnar was on Ubbe's other side, Vinh leaving as she muttered to the gods. The coal bit into the wound on my hand, but I didn't care. Ubbe was steadily choking down coal, and as his lips turned black from the coal, I grew calmer.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Ragnar hissed at me. I shot him a look, not wanting to get Ubbe to get upset.

"Your son is still not sure of his life," I pointed out. It wouldn't do to bicker over any of this until he was out of the woods.

"You are a slave. That means that if I desire to kill you, I can. Do you even understand that? You've given me plenty of reasons to punish you, or take your life."

"Just one more, Ubbe. Pretend your mother tried to cook something, and it burned."

"But it's so gross," he groaned. "I feel sick."

"Awful, isn't it? I had to do the same thing, once." I promised him once I wouldn't lie to him, but this was to save his life. "But you are breathing a little better." He grunted, then allowed me to feed him a little more.

"I don't like Vinh," Ubbe said after a painful looking swallow.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Because she hurt you."

"She wanted to hurt you. I promised nothing would happen to you. Please, just one more time Ubbe. The more you eat, the better you feel."

"Does it really work that fast?" Ragnar asked softly. I didn't know. I had no way of knowing, without any equipment telling me what to do. I could only monitor his breathing and his pulse, but I couldn't do anything if he collapsed, other than crack more ribs and hope for the best. But if I admitted that to Ragnar now... At least it was better than having him bleed to death because some cunt thought bad blood would find its way out.

"He's already feeling a lot better if he can talk this much," I said as I carefully looked up at my master. He seemed mostly intent on Ubbe and his well-being, now. "I'm sorry I raised my voice and defied you. I know I was out of line, but... Could I stay with Ubbe until I'm certain he feels better? I'm still worried about him. I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit." His eyes went over my body, taking in everything there was to see. It made me feel very small, but I refused to look away.

"Show me your hand," he said. I knew he wasn't talking about the one he could see. As soon as he saw my blackened, bloodied hand, his eyes flashed wide for a split second. "That must hurt."

"Not at all," I lied. I didn't want to worry Ubbe, he needed his strength.

"You're a terrible liar," Ragnar pointed out. "Why did you even grab that knife?"

"Because cutting someone open is a stupid thing to do. The body is dumb. It doesn't know how to get bad blood out or keep good blood in. Even now, Ubbe's body is digesting what makes him ill."

"You hurt yourself to keep him alive?" I glanced over at Ubbe, who seemed to drift off a bit. His heartbeat was fairly steady, though.

"I did what I could to give him the best chance to survive."

"I don't know if that makes you a good slave or a bad one."

"No, keep your eyes open Ubbe. Don't sleep." A hand to his face made him look at me. His fear was mostly replaced with exhaustion.

"But I'm tired..."

"I know. But you have to stay awake for now. That's an order."

"You can't give me orders."

"I can if I need to take care of you." He groaned but opened his eyes wide again. "You can hate me all you want, but at least you'll be around to think I'm the worst person ever." Ragnar grabbed my hand, pushing on the wound. I barely felt it, with all the charcoal that had nestled inside.

"Clean up that wound, then go get your things. You will sleep here." I let my eyes slide to Ubbe, who was starting to doze off. Then again, I didn't want to disobey any more orders, especially after Ragnar had agreed to my request.

"Please, make sure he stays awake for now. The coal needs to work better before he can sleep." I kissed Ubbe on his forehead, causing him to smile a little. "I'll be right back, you hear me? I'll tell you as many stories as you want."

"But I want to sleep..."

"You've been so brave today, but now you need to be strong for a little longer. Can you do that?" He just nodded.

I hurriedly went off to get my things, clutching my skirts with my bloody hand to keep pressure on the wound. Eyes shot up to look at me from all across the hall, but I kept looking at the floor as I made my way out.

In the barn, I gathered my things with one hand, having only one other dress to worry about. Everything else was still in my bag. As I glimpsed my hand, I saw the knife had cut through the skin, but the wound wasn't deep. The calluses on my palm had taken most of the damage. The bleeding was already slowing down, and I didn't bother wrapping it up after I'd gotten off most of the soot stains. I didn't want to waste time preventing my hand from scarring if it meant Ubbe might fall asleep under a relenting Ragnar. The man had either gone soft on me or didn't bother keeping up his cruel earl's mask around me anymore.


	12. Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-08-799

Ragnar was still seated beside Ubbe and told him a story about the raid he had just been on. I joined in beside Ubbe, seeing how badly he was fighting to stay awake. The tremor in his hand was still there, but he had regained some of his color.

I left my spare dress next to Ubbe's bed and got some cloth wet to clean up Ubbe's face. He was still covered in charcoal and puke. As I came across the empty strip of pills, I saw Ubbe had cleaned them all out. There hadn't been much left, but it would have been enough for me to get seriously nauseous and groggy. I would have to get rid of the empty strip in a way no one could ever hope to find it again. The pills Ubbe had puked out were the same. For now, I wrapped them inside a bit of cloth, vowing to throw everything in a fire when no one was around. Even the strips I had hidden back in the barn would have to go.

"You defied my commands," Ragnar said as I sat back down again. "I am curious why."

"Because I didn't want Ubbe to get hurt even worse," I softly said, not wanting to use the word dying. "I will accept whatever punishment you think fair, as long as Ubbe is fine."

"What did you do with the poison?"

"It's not poison as you might know it. It is medicine that is dangerous when you take too much. I will burn it when no one is around. It can't stay here. Hvitserk... He told me Ubbe refused to share. Had they both eaten, I..."

"But they didn't. Why did you have it in the first place? Are you sick?"

"No. The medicine helps me feel less sad. It doesn't matter. It will be gone by tomorrow."

"Why would you even need medicine to feel better?" I bit my lip, not knowing what to say.

"I don't know the words to tell you." From underneath my lashes, I could see Ragnar was trying to make sense of what had happened, and what I'd said.

"Stay with Ubbe until he is better again," Ragnar said as he got up. "Come and get me if something happens." After a last kiss on Ubbe's brow, Ragnar left to join the crowd in the great hall.

"Can I go to sleep now?" Ubbe asked softly.

"I'll have to check a few things first, okay?" He nodded, and I put a hand underneath his back again. Though he winced as I did, his breathing had much improved.

"Are you still a bit dizzy? Or sick?"

"No. Just tired." The tremor in his hand was getting much less severe.

"Okay, then you can sleep. I will check your back a few times while you sleep."

"I'm sorry I took your sweets," Ubbe said, his eyes already closed as he let his tiredness wash over him. "They weren’t that good anyway. "

"Don't worry about that, Ubbe. I'm glad you are still with us. If you need anything, just let me know. I am here for you all night."

I stayed true to my word. As Ubbe slept, I thought back to everything that had happened, and what was undoubtedly still to come. When Ubbe was feeling better, and wouldn't need my constant supervision, Ragnar or Aslaug would punish me for how I'd behaved today. Probably both, but at least I hadn't let Ubbe die.

Eventually, I had to get up to fetch some more water in case Ubbe would be thirsty, and I sneaked through the busy hall to reach the barrels. No one seemed to notice me until I made my way back. Ragnar caught my eye and gestured for me to come over.

"How is he?"

"Ubbe is sleeping now, he needs to rest a lot. I keep my eyes on him. If he sleeps calmly, I am very sure he will live."

"Thank you, Ragnhild." I took his words as a dismissal and stepped back, but before I could take three steps, Aslaug made me stop again.

"I was told you are to sleep here?"

"I won't sleep tonight. If Ubbe wakes up, I want to make sure he is okay."

"Is he still in danger, then?"

"I think, err... Better safe than sorry. I don't want to take risks."

"Very well. That will be all." In her eyes I could see Aslaug was worried for her son and wanted to check up on him, but her position prevented her from doing so. As I sat back down next to Ubbe, checking his breathing by putting a hand to his chest and listening to him breathe, I noticed he was soundly asleep. If I could, I'd have thrown everyone in the hall out. Instead, I had to contend myself with keeping him as comfortable as I could. Maybe tomorrow I'd be able to check how severe his ribs were bruised.

When Aslaug came to the back to put Hvitserk to bed, she first bent down over her son, gingerly touching his face.

"His breath is good," I told her. "He is in pain, but not so much he can't sleep."

"How did you know what to do? Vinh was furious Ragnar let you treat him."

"I... I had the same once. My brother saved me then. I remembered what to do, and I know bleeding someone is dumb. You only bleed someone when you want them to die."

"What makes you say that? I've seen people recover after they've been bled."

"The heart is a muscle that keeps the blood running. If the heart stops, you die. With less blood, the heart is difficult to keep the blood running. Blood is best inside the body, always."

"Were you trained as a healer?"

"No. I just know. Where I come from, everyone just knows."

"And where exactly do you come from?"

"It doesn't matter. I will never go back. I don't want to go back."

"I thought all slaves wanted to go back home."

"Where I come from was not home."

"I'll forgive you your insolence," she said, her eyes narrowed as I looked up. "You did save my son. But in the future, you'd do well to answer my questions."

"Yes, Aslaug," I said softly, not wanting to antagonize her. I had told her the truth, but it seemed she wasn't satisfied with my answers.

"Can I stay with brother?" Hvitserk asked, switching his gaze from mine to Aslaug's. I frowned a little. They usually slept in the same bed, but with Ubbe's injuries, I didn't think that wise.

"Ragnhild means to stay up with him, you can take her bed in the corner," she responded. "Ubbe needs to heal." I hadn't even realized there was a bed for me here for the night.

"I want to stay up all night, too!" Hvitserk exclaimed.

"You need to sleep," Aslaug firmly told him. "Go get ready." A bit disappointed Hvitserk went off to get changed. Aslaug turned around to put Sigurd to bed as well, from what I could see he was already fast asleep. Over the course of the evening a few people came by, Ragnar and Floki chief among them, checking in every now and then. I'd tell them Ubbe was still asleep, and that it seemed ever more likely he'd fully recover. Siggy came by as well, but mostly to see if I'd need anything. She had Tris bring me over a bit of food, but I could see the spit on top of the plate and left it for what it was.

I was privy to hearing Aslaug and Ragnar making love when they had both gone to bed, whispered conversations between them before and after. Ubbe woke up shortly as a table seemed to fall over in the hall, but as he saw me he calmed down again, whimpering a bit as his chest hurt.

"You're still here," he groaned.

"I told you I would be. How are you feeling?"

"A bit thirsty." I didn't want him to sit up straight as I knew it would hurt him, and carefully let some water trickle down into his mouth.

"Try and get some sleep," I said as I tucked him in again. "I'll be here when you wake again."

"You fought for me," he mumbled before he was off again. It brought a smile to my face as I realized I had, just like Ubbe had wanted me to do for me back when Happy was born.

As the hall grew more silent, people off to swagger home having had their fill of ale, I found it more difficult to keep my eyes open. It had been a tiring day for me as well, but I wouldn't let sleep take me. I'd not break my promise to Ubbe. Still, I did allow myself to get a little comfortable. I rested my head beside Ubbe's body, using my arms as a pillow. I could swear I only had closed my eyes for a second, but as I heard someone breathe near me, I realized I had dozed off. The breathing became louder, closer, but I refused to open my eyes. I tried my best looking soundly asleep. Would I really be shaken awake to be taken advantage of, with Ragnar's family this close by? A hand brushed aside the hair that covered my face, tucking it behind my ear. The fingers were rough, calloused. They had to belong to a man. And yet, it was a tender gesture.

If I opened my eyes now, who would I see? Would it be someone who would try and force himself on me? Athelstan, wanting to know how I was doing? Floki, checking in before he took off? Ragnar making sure I was doing as he had told? A pair of lips touched my cheek, the same one where the women had cut me a few months ago. I couldn't help shivering at the kiss. The man seemed to feel a similar sort of panic rushing through him, as he quickly got up and left. Only when the footsteps had gone away, and the hall had grown even more still, did I dare open my eyes again. I had no trouble staying awake for the rest of the night.


	13. The Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-08-799

By the time Siggy came to check on Ubbe, he was already awake. I was telling him some weird stories I was making up on the spot, flecked with inconsistencies and mistakes as I tried to stumble through a half-arsed plotline. Still, Ubbe seemed to enjoy them, his eyes twinkling whenever he caught a mistake and pointed it out.

"You look like you're doing a lot better," Siggy told him. "Have you been keeping her awake?"

"She did it all by herself," Ubbe said, feeling a little as if he'd been chided. "She insists she wanted to stay with me until someone else woke up."

"Normally you have no trouble bossing her around," Siggy pointed out as she gestured for me to get up.

"She fought with father and Floki yesterday, and Vinh. I think she doesn't like being told what to do anymore."

"I'm standing right here, you know," I said with a tired smile. "I won't take orders if they mean you get hurt."

"He seems fine now. Go freshen up a bit." I resigned myself to not getting any sleep before I'd have to get to work.

"Ubbe needs to stay in bed for at least a week if he wants to get better as soon as he can. The less he moves, the better."

"I know how to take care of such injuries, Ragnhild. Go feed the goats."

"Of course, Siggy," I said, instantly falling back to my subservient attitude. I kissed Ubbe's brow and then got up, eager to wash up a bit and get changed. The goats came walking up to me as they saw me, knowing I'd bring them food. I picked up Happy, scratching between his small horns absent-mindedly as I felt my tiredness creep up. He liked being pet, especially on the head and his belly. I knew Happy was going to die someday, and I would probably eat him. I had always eaten meat but meeting your food before it died still made me a little queasy. Still, I'd take whatever comfort he could offer me until such a time was upon us.

Someone cleared their throat, waking me up to the reality I was now in. I put down the goat and ignored his bleating. Happy was not satisfied with the amount of affection I had given him, wanting more. I wanted to pick up the buckets and go back inside, but the feet that belonged to the voice that brought me back seemed to have other plans. The words came out of his mouth so fast and unexpected, I didn't understand them. Happy jumping up at me distracted me as well. Something about the goats? I glanced back, seeing nothing wrong with them. Happy tried to get more attention from me by pulling on the hem of my dress with his teeth. The man put his fingers underneath my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes. They were blue and soft. His ears flapped out a little, which was even more accentuated by his hair. He only had some short strands on the top, leaving the sides bare. His face was kind, even though he towered above me. It was one of the strangers that had come in with Ragnar yesterday.

"What's your name?" he asked. His voice was kind and clear, but it did little to make me feel more at ease. He saw me. I had his undivided attention. It made me hope for some distraction, allowing me to sneak off and avoid him for the rest of my life. I didn't want anyone to look at me like that, but after my stunt last night I'd have little say in the matter. A rogue slave, and Ragnar had permitted it.

"Ragnhild," I said softly. His touch made me even more uncomfortable, little as it was. I wanted to shy away, but who was I but a slave? I knew how we were treated. Just because Ragnar took a lot of shit from me didn't mean the others would. I was not safe, and it was foolish to think he would keep an eye out for me. I had often heard the sobbing of the other slaves when I still slept in the barn, which had no doubt become more usual as the men had come back from their raid. So far I had been spared, but I didn't delude myself. Keeping to myself most of the time, trying to remain invisible whenever I had to be amongst men, no one took any interest in me. I was very good at being invisible. Until now, it seemed. I had caused quite a scene, and it seemed men had started to notice me already.

"So you do understand me." This one was still young, I doubted he'd be mature by my standards. Only a patched bit of fuzz seemed to grow from his chin. When I would stare straight forward, I would only see his chest. Only the woman who had taken care of me when I first got here had been on the small side compared to these giants, all the rest was just freakishly tall. And this one was tallest of all, it seemed.

"Forgive me, I didn't sleep last night." I was just so incredibly tired... Only the adrenaline rush I felt coursing through my veins ever since he'd looked me in the eye kept me from yawning. Even though I did my best to hide the fear that ran through my body, he must've sensed it.

He let go of my face, then stepped behind me. Unsure of what to do, I looked on as he walked around the pen. He chose a full-grown goat from the pen and led it out. I guessed we'd have Lucky for dinner soon. He threw back a look, making me remember myself. I picked up the buckets and hastily made my way out of the pen, closing the gate behind me.

Back in the great hall, Siggy was already busy bossing Tris and Milly around to prepare breakfast. After I put away the buckets, she gave me a knife and pointed at some vegetables.

"Cut these," she said. Glad to have something to take my mind off Lucky, I started to cut whatever was put before me. Helping with the cooking was one of the few things that had remained similar to before. Most vegetables were not as fresh as I was used to, and everything seemed to be smaller, less tasty. I usually got a few scraps of food, left on the bottom of the pans and pots. Because of this, I had barely put on weight since I came here.

This night, however, I was offered food before the other slaves.

"I don't understand," I told Siggy as she stared down Tris and Milly.

"You saved Ubbe's life. Did you think Ragnar made you move your stuff in here because he was mad at you?" Move my stuff? She made it sound like I had moved in here. Siggy scoffed as she saw me trying to wrap my head around it. "You did well, and this is your reward. Now hurry up." I didn't want to incur Siggy's wrath, or those of the other women, knowing they wouldn't have any trepidation harming me again if they got the chance. I had already invoked their anger by moving out of the barn and into the great hall, so I only took a bit more than usual. Siggy seemed to understand what was going on, putting an extra two scoops on my plate.

"You are too skinny already. You need your energy if you are to do your job. Don't let them intimidate you." I gave her a thankful smile, but as soon as she turned away I threw a look of guilt towards Milly and Tristen who now had to contend with less food than usual. I could cut the tension with a knife. Not wanting to bask in their feelings of hatred for too long, I ate as fast as I could. Without anyone having to tell me, I took away the pots to clean them. Siggy stopped me as she saw, putting the pots in front of the two slaves who were now below me in the ranking. This all felt so surreal.

"Have you ever seen a ritual?" Siggy asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

"No. Why do you ask?" Usually, I was left to clean up, washing the dishes and cleaning the tables. If not, I enjoyed my hours off finding places to watch people go by.

"Because this one is to celebrate Ubbe surviving, partially." She took me by the hand and guided me outside, where a lot of people were already gathered. She pulled me almost all the way up front, so I'd be able to see it all. I was considerably short compared to the men and women who had gathered.

Ragnar was already approaching, with the boy I had met earlier following closely behind. He held Lucky by the horns, pulling him forward. In the circle we formed two men took over Lucky, the boy stepping away. I didn't know what was going on. There were so many men and women, and even children I now noticed, all staring intently towards Ragnar and Lucky. They were silent, waiting for what was happening. Ragnar was handed a blade and he started shouting and chanting.

The realization of what would happen made me sick. Lucky bleated one last time, then his throat was slit. Blood spattered everywhere. I gasped, putting my hands in front of my mouth. The entire crowd remained silent as Ragnar continued the ritual, smearing Lucky's blood over his face. I made to take a step back, but I hit what seemed to be a brick wall. Siggy noticed my discomfort, which only grew as a hand took hold of my shoulder.

I was tired, I had no idea of what had happened around me all day, and I couldn't handle seeing Lucky get killed in front of my eyes. I barely noticed tears had filled my eyes until I blinked and one ran down my face. All around me people were celebrating, happy for some reason, and I just wanted to cry.

Siggy whispered something to the brick wall behind me and led me away, back to the great hall. If she was annoyed or surprised by my reaction, she didn't let it show. Sitting down, I felt weak. I knew how animals were butchered here, I knew the customs here were bloody and relentless. Seeing it happen before my eyes was something I hadn't prepared for. Siggy gave me a cup of ale and sat down next to me. I hurriedly wiped away my tears, trying to keep more from coming out.

"Not what you expected?" she asked.

"No. Not at all. I fed him today. He was a good goat. I called him Lucky." I still stuck to short sentences when I was scared, tired, or confused, which Siggy seemed to realize. She couldn't contain a snigger.

"Never get too attached to the animals here, you know they are food, not friends."

"The goats are some of the few friends I have."

"Well, if he really was a lucky goat, his luck will now be bestowed upon the journey ahead. Ragnar has some business to attend to in the east." I seriously doubted it all worked like that.

"But he just got back."

"Such is life. We don't just raid and kill your friends, Ragnar has responsibilities." The raiding and killing had seemed like a fairly accurate summary of my insights so far.

"Siggy?"

"Hmm?"

"Do I have new responsibilities now?" My question seemed to amuse her a little.

"You tell me. Would you prefer to serve breakfast over doing laundry?" Did she just ask about what I would like? Were my preferences being considered? I gingerly nodded, making Siggy grin.

"Very much, in fact," I spoke softly. "But..."

"You are a strange girl," she remarked as she took hold of my hand. "You'll defy Ragnar, but you fear those who are of your own standing."

"It's not about what everyone thinks they are worth. It's about the consequences of their actions." I'd given it a lot of thought since I heard I'd become a slave. Siggy softly touched the crust on the wound of my palm.

"You do a lot of thinking for someone of your station."

"I always think a lot."

"Then why haven't you figured out how to get them to stop picking on you?"

"Because I can't think straight when it concerns me. That's why I had that medicine in the first place."

"How will you get by now?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"I guess I just do."

"What will happen if you don't?" I took in a deep breath, then slowly released it.

"You would say, only the gods know."

"And what would you say?" There was a lot more to that question than it seemed.

"I would say that a wise man does not pee against the wind." Siggy puffed out a breath of air, then snickered. The noise died down after a few seconds.

"No, I suppose he wouldn't. And apparently, neither will you. Get Sigurd to bed, then go sleep yourself. I'll need you fresh tomorrow for breakfast." Lowering my head a bit, I got up and set to work.


	14. Mastering Norse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-09-799

Before I knew it, the leaves on the trees began to change. Life had started to become normal, until one night I came across the knives I still had in my satchel. I had meant to die not that long ago, to end my suffering. In a way, my life had ended. I was no longer trapped in my old life and now had an opportunity to start over. I had often thought about packing up my shit and fly to the other end of the world, but it seemed going to Norway had brought me even further away.

Life here was definitively different, but was it better? Was it good enough? Did I want to try and build a life for myself here? I put the knives back and left for my lessons with Athelstan. I found him at his house, writing with the slowest deliberation possible. No wonder they used to refer to this kind of thing as a monk's work.

"Good morning, Athelstan," I said as I put my satchel down on the floor in a corner.

"Ah, good morning Ragnhild. You mind waiting for me to finish this sentence?" For some reason, Athelstan had continued his work of copying and adorning Christian texts, and Ragnar somehow allowed it. If I would be freed like he was... I'd have no idea what I'd do.

"Will it take you an hour?"

"Only two words left."

"You know those verbs always take the longest," I said, rolling my eyes. "But sure, I'll wait." Athelstan gave me an appreciative smile and went back to work. I sat down at his table and looked around for a bit. We'd been focusing on the future tense this week, and it was proving to be a bitch. I'd rather work on different ways of phrasing something, so I could talk with more deliberation.

"You seem a bit more quiet than usual," Athelstan noted without looking up from his calligraphy.

"I thought a lot lately."

"Have been thinking," he corrected. I didn't feel like repeating the sentence right now. "About what?"

"My life here. I'm wondering if I could ever get used to living here."

"Have been wondering. Come on Ragnhild, you have to work at it every day if you don't want to sound like a toddler, as per your words."

"Alright, I have been thinking and I have been wondering about what I have been doing here since I have been living here."

"Have lived here, you're still living here right now." I rolled my eyes again. "What thoughts have been troubling you?"

"Have troubled me, they still trouble me," I said back a little sassy. "I wonder if I'll ever be happy here. This life is so strange and so different from what my life used to be."

"I thought you had made your peace with your current situation," Athelstan said.

"I'm a slave, Athelstan. It's not a dirty word. I might have gotten used to doing chores and being told what to do, but I still worry about what the men could do to me." The priest looked up at me.

"Being raped, you mean." Now that was a dirty word I didn't want to say out loud. "I get the feeling it's about more than that."

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a slave. Sure, I like getting to take care of the boys, and the goats, but aside from that... There's plenty of things I don't like."

"Other than that. I know what you mean, it took some time for me to be able to live my life as I wanted when I first got here."

"You're a man. You didn't have to worry about men abusing you."

"If it hasn't happened yet, I'm sure you're pretty safe."

"That's because I'm good at being invisible. But what if the men return? Now that I can make myself understood, Aslaug has me serving at feasts more, I've never been more visible."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much." Athelstan put down his quill and put a lid on the tiny jar of ink. I sighed, Athelstan didn't know what I knew. All men were beasts, and only a handful knew how to control themselves around women when there was no one else around. Athelstan himself was one of those rare exceptions, making him blind to the lusts of others. "There is something I need to tell you before we start today," Athelstan said as he joined me at the table.

"Now you're making me nervous."

"You should. You must have noticed Ragnar is a lot more relaxed than most Viking when it concerns foreigners such as us."

"Is this about what he wants from me?" I asked with a sigh. Athelstan's eyes narrowed a little, but a soft smile told me he was mostly just curious.

"How did you know?"

"All things in life come at a cost. I get to have my satchel and things, I sleep in the hall, I get lessons with you. Of course Ragnar expects something in return. Do you know what it is?"

"You seem to have a very bleak outlook on life, Ragnhild. Though I must admit, what you say is true."

"I figured. You told me once how Ragnar got you drunk and made you tell about England. It must have been fairly obvious to him I'm also from a different country. Does he want information?"

"Yes... You are very perceptive about these things."

"I have been a hard life. I had to see things others fail to notice to survive."

"Have had a hard life. Is that why you had those pills that made you less sad?"

"Yes. If you are sad long enough, you can't feel happy anymore, or rare."

"Rarely, we've been over that last week. What made you so sad?" I bit my lip. I didn't want to talk about it, but Athelstan had become a close friend.

"My family made me sad. My life made me sad. The world made me sad."

"And now you have left all that behind, you are troubled because you don't know if this life will be different?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"Was it really so much different?"

"It was. Everything was easier. Living, I mean. Half of what I do here would not be... required?"

"Err, needed? Necessary?"

"Necessary, that's the one. Half wasn't necessary. That also meant there was a lot of time for other things, and those were nice at first but then turned bad."

"When I first asked you where you came from you drew a map of the known world and pointed to what would be the north of Francia. I've been to that country, and they live very much like the Saxons in England." Fuck.

"That's where some family is from, many years back. I can't find it on a map now," I said, waving my hand as if to brush away the subject.

"Where did they go? South? East?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"You don't have to, not yet. But when Ragnar returns you had better have an answer." Athelstan was right. We dove into the next lesson, talking about what will happen and what will be done.

Still, I felt uncertain of what I'd tell Ragnar. He could see through my lies with ease, but I couldn't tell him the truth. I'd have to find a way to circumvent him finding out I lied, and fast.


	15. For Shits And Giggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-10-799

Ubbe had trouble sitting still all the time, which meant his ribs still hurt every now and then. The storm of his survival had died down, at last, but he still hurt whenever he was trying to do too much. Often I'd have to tell him to take it easy as I saw him clutching his ribs, but he didn't always listen. I could understand his frustration, but it didn't make me worry any less.

Hvitserk and Sigurd were a different story. Hvitserk liked to crawl up to me when I sang to him and told him stories he couldn't fully understand but were much longer than those he was used to. Sigurd was the only one that required constant attention, being barely able to walk. I found it relaxing to have them around. I could talk to them about everything that had happened. They didn't grow bored or walk away, instead seeming to revel in the unusual sounds that came out of my mouth, taking delight in trying to copy me. I told them about the music I was missing, how I was craving a cigarette and wondered out loud if I'd ever go back to my own time. Spending time with the boys was the only time I could be myself. Siggy noticed they did wonders for my mood, smiling when she saw me telling them the plot line of Star Wars.

Just as Luke found out Darth Vader was his dad, Hvitserk jumped up. I turned around and saw Ragnar standing behind me, apparently back from the business in the east. I let Sigurd hobble towards him, holding on to his tiny hand with mine to make sure he'd stay upright, Ragnar smiled and took his son into his arms. How strange, that this huge man had been killing foreigners all summer, and now seemed to glow with pride as Sigurd cooed and prattled sounds that might have meant papa, clawing at his father's beard. Despite being a warlord of sorts, no doubt ruthless and feared by many, his love for the boy was outshining everything else. He was a better parent in those five minutes than mine had been all my life. Ragnar still reminded me of my father every now and then, but I had started to see differences as well.

I must have spaced out a bit, pondering the slight jealousy I felt towards the boy as Ragnar looked at me curiously as he spoke. I understood the priest's name, though, and guessed at what he had asked. He made me nervous, and I struggled to find the right words.

"Err, Athelstan? It's going well, my language gets better. He is patient with me, but he still corrects many failures."

"I think you mean mistakes," Ragnar said. He seemed pleased with my answer and wanted to know more but was distracted by his wife.

"How did Borg take the news? Did you manage to get him and Horik in line? Oh, Ragnhild, get the others and help Siggy with the preparations for tonight, I'm sure my husband will want to tell his own tales to the boys." I bowed my head in understanding and left the room to get Milly and Tristen to help us as well.

They were lounging at the back entrance, probably hiding away from all the lusty men that had come back. I hesitated for a bit, but I had been given a command. They didn't scare me like they used to, but they could still cause me trouble.

"Well, look who decided to hide again," Tris sneered. She looked like all she missed was a cigarette and a run-down mall in the background. "Off to the goats?"

"Aslaug asked me to come and get you, there's a feast tonight. Siggy needs our help."

"Siggy doesn't need our help, she needs our labor," Milly spat. Literally. She must have been saving it for a while, as a huge phlegm was now shining on the nose of my shoe.

"Please, just come with. I don't want trouble."

"I don't see why they even bother keeping us around anymore," Milly sighed. "They've got Ragnhild taking care of them, I bet she knows how to pleasure earl Ragnar in all the right ways..."

"She seems obedient enough. I bet she has him wrapped all around her little finger."

"Ragnar never forced himself on me," I said, gritting my teeth at the mere thought.

"I didn't imply he has to force you to suck his cock," Tris laughed. "Just the sight of him gets you dripping wet. I see how you look at him. Like he's some god, always staring after him." More like keeping an eye on him to keep him from sneaking up on me, but yeah. Sure.

"Like a bitch in heat, no wonder he decided to keep her close," Milly added.

"Shall I tell Siggy you will stay out here?" I meant it as a courtesy, but they heard something completely different. They jumped up and pushed me against the back wall of the hall, making it hard for me to breathe.

"Are you threatening us? You fucking bitch, do you think your earl can keep you safe from us? We haven't forgotten what you did to us." My eyes flashed over their near-identical scars, separating them from me even further.

"You caused that yourselves," I wheezed. Milly put her lower arm to my throat, allowing Tris to punch me in the stomach. I groaned at the impact, losing what little breath was still in my lungs.

"Ragnhild?" The women let go of me immediately and hurried inside as they heard Siggy call out. I coughed for a bit, then tried to stand upright. "What's taking so long?"

"They just went in," I said, my voice a lot hoarser than I'd meant. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"What did they do this time?" Her eyes went over me to try and see any hurt.

"Just more proof that I am right to want to avoid them. What do you need me to do?" She inhaled sharply, then scowled.

"First get that spit off your shoes. We need to show we have ourselves under control. Then go help with the food."

"Yes, Siggy." She left me, and I went to find some leaves to get Milly's spit off my shoe. Those bitches were not scared of anyone but Ragnar and Siggy. And I... I was the one they could take it all out on. Ever since Ragnar had cut their faces it had only gotten worse. I didn't dare say anything, however, and they knew better than to harm me where he could easily see.

Ashamed of how I'd let them get the better of me again, I went inside. Ubbe was trying to get into a shirt, but his ribs were still hurting too much. He must have been overextending himself again.

"Do you need help?" I asked.

"Yes," he admitted with a muffled voice. I pulled on the hem a bit, then helped him get his left arm free. As he lowered it, his elbow hit me where Tris had landed her punch. Ubbe turned around surprised at my groaning.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, you just hit a sore spot. I fell against a fence earlier."

"You've been in the hall all day," he pointed out. "I thought you told me you'd never lie to me." His pout only made it sting worse.

"I'm - I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." Ubbe wasn't satisfied.

"What happened?"

"I'd rather not tell. You'll get me into trouble again."

"Do I need to command you?" I hated when he pulled rank like that. He loved telling grown-ups what to do.

"I'm ashamed, Ubbe. It's impolite to press on."

"They still push you around. Why do you let them?" I sighed, groaned, scowled, then closed my eyes as I hung my head.

"It's not your fight," I reminded him.

"But you won't defend yourself. That's not a fight at all. If I were to face you in battle, I'd be ashamed to even kill you."

"If you were in battle right now, I'd laugh at you because you can't get your own shirt on," I said jokingly. It didn't land.

"You fought for me. I know you can do it, don't deny it. I order you to fight for yourself if it's to defend from those other slaves."

"I can't take on two of them," I reminded him. "They're always together."

"Then I'll help you." I smiled, but he was dead serious. "Let's get back at them."

"Ubbe, I can't. I have to help Siggy, and you have to worry about other things than me."

"If you won't do something, I will." The defiance in his eyes was frightening. I knew he'd tell Ragnar, and he would want to see the bruise on my stomach. Then he would be mad at me, as well, and things would get even worse.

"I don't like how you're forcing me to do something I don't want to do, Ubbe. I choose not to respond, and I choose to let them treat me the way they do."

"That makes no sense."

"I don't want to give them the satisfaction of watching me suffer. I don't want to sink down to their level." He did not agree with me, at all. Sighing, I put a hand on his shoulder, carefully, and lowered my face to his level. "However..." A twinkle came to his eyes. He thought he had me.

"You can't defy me?"

"Oh, I can defy you whenever I want. Like you said, I don't like taking orders all that much. I was thinking of something you might be able to help me with, in fact. Are you up for it?"

"What do you need me to do?"

"We're going to play a little joke on them. Do you remember how you had to eat those herbs to help you pass stool after all that charcoal?" A childish grin grew as Ubbe realized what I'd meant to do.

Both of us set to work. I supervised the food as Milly and Tris rearranged the hall and hauled in a barrel of ale. Ubbe made it back just in time, and when it was time for me to get a plate, I watched as he dropped the herbs into the remainder of the pot after I'd gotten my fill. Ubbe then told them they had to do their best on his shirts next time as they still smelled a little funny, while I stirred the pot to get the herbs to disappear from sight. I winked at the boy as he made his way to the hall and joined the rest for the feast, and his giddy smile told me he was looking forward to hearing them complain in the morning.

It didn't take that long for the herbs to affect them, though. Halfway through the feast, both of them were clutching their stomachs, then ran off shortly after.

"What's wrong with them?" Siggy hissed as I rushed past with jugs of ale. Ubbe started laughing a little uncomfortable, still needing to hold his ribs as he did. Aside from the pain, he was enjoying this way too much.

"I don't know," I whispered before I got off again to refill some horns at the next table. I glanced over as I heard Ragnar laughing out loud, seeing Ubbe was whispering in his ear. As their eyes found mine I flushed and went on serving, having to work twice as hard to compensate for the loss of Milly and Tris. Even when they got back, they barely could do anything before they were off again, for an even longer time.

I had to work off my ass, but as people grew tired of having to wait for me to bring them more ale, they got up to fetch it for themselves. As the first people decided to go home, Hvitserk and Sigurd were brought to the back to get to bed. It quieted down a bit, leaving me a few seconds to check up on Ubbe.

"I hope you haven't been laughing too hard," I softly said to Ubbe as I filled his cup with water. "How much did you put in there?"

"Oh, come on. It was funny."

"I thought I told you to come to me, if they tried anything again," I heard Ragnar say. He was leaning over Aslaug's seat to lean in close.

"Nothing happened, Ubbe and I just played a little joke on them."

"Well, next time nothing happens, pick a better time for it." He sat up straight again, focusing on whatever great warrior was sitting beside him at his other side.


	16. Ragnar's Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-02-800

The first time it was raining instead of snowing, the days starting to get longer again, Ragnar came by during my lessons with Athelstan.

"Good afternoon," he said. "You're a tough woman to track down, Ragnhild. You're always off doing something for Siggy it seems."

"I like to keep busy," I responded. In truth I had avoided Ragnar, wanting to postpone this moment for as long as I could. "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble."

"Let's find out, shall we?" Yep, this was it. After the pleasantries, Athelstan pulled up a more detailed map than the one I drew in the sand a long time ago. Ragnar spoke in a soft voice.

"So, tell me. Where do you come from?" I suppressed the urge to tell him the question should be when, not where. Instead, I gazed at the map and tried to find Holland.

"Wait - is this an accurate map?" What had happened to it? I barely recognized it, most of the land being claimed by large patches of water. Aside from that, the lines I did recognize were vague and blurry. Feeling flustered, I tried to slump back into my seat. For lack of a backrest, I almost fell off the bench. My face turning red, I pointedly ignored Ragnar's look. If I hadn't, I would have seen the onset on his face, contorting the softness he showed as a father into the ruthlessness of a warlord. As he spoke, he reminded me so much of my own father. His voice was like a hail storm, cold and unforgiving. I just wanted to disappear.

"What's the matter? Did it disappear? Do you want to protect your family?" All I could do was look down at the table, still as a statue. He'd stop shouting eventually, they always did. I just had to weather this storm of rage.

"No," I whispered. I couldn't care less about those people, but if he knew what land I came from, he'd know something was up. He'd thought I was lying, and the consequences would be severe.

"I took you in, I gave you a hearth to stay warm and food to stay fed. I entrusted my children to you. And this is how you repay me? Did you forget you are a slave? Do you think you can outsmart me?" His words kept crashing into me, triggering memories from another life, from another time. He roughly grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me to look him in the eye. I just wanted to shrink into nothingness. Tears started to flow, my breath turning into sobs. Athelstan stood by helplessly, unsure what he could do.

Realizing I was unable to form words, Ragnar let go of me and left the house, almost throwing the door off its hinges on his way out. My sobs slowed down, and I wiped the tears from my face. Men like that didn't deserve to see me cry. I pointedly ignored Athelstan, focusing my eyes on the map. Most of my favorite holiday destinations weren't even on there. Ireland was missing completely; this map was definitely not up to date. Or maybe I was mistaken, and the cities weren't even built yet. I could have told Ragnar that, hadn't he started shouting right off the bat.

"There are some things missing," I spoke miserably. "I can't find Paris on here. And Ireland isn't here." As I spoke, I pointed to the places I was referring to. Athelstan gasped at my words, as though I spoke of sacrilege.

"You can't tell him. Don't give him Paris, he will tear the city apart brick by brick if he has to. The holy artifacts there are priceless. If you have any love for the Lord, you will not tell him." I found his eyes and found myself getting angry.

"And it's okay if Ragnar just goes and pillage somewhere else? Is your faith more important than the lives of the people who will suffer if he goes their way instead?" My dislike of religion in general came to the surface, something I had expressly steered clear from since I met the priest. Surprised by my strong reaction against his faith, he let it drop.

"How do you know about these places, but not where your homeland is? You have obviously received some form of education, although I have no idea how that came to be. You love sharing what you know, but you never told me how you came to know these things." No shit. I couldn't admit the truth, how could I? Who would believe me, and how would that influence the future? I shut my mouth and vowed to keep it closed. The priest was not letting it go, however, his curiosity now mixing with anger of his own.

"You have to tell me, I have a right to know. I've spent the entire year teaching you their ways and their language, you must tell me."

"I don't want to have to lie to you, Athelstan! Don't force me to, you are one of the few people I can call my friend. Please don't do this to me..." My tears were still close to the surface and emerged quickly. "You are free to ask me anything, but don't expect me to always be able to answer you. Sometimes I can't tell you the truth, and I'd rather remain silent than lie to you. That goes against everything I believe in, even though it hurts me to do it." That in itself was a lie, I realized. My 'curse' was proof of that. My anger fell away, and I continued in a softer voice.

"But sometimes it is easier to tell you I've been cursed than tell you why I can't bleed or bear a child, but it wounds me deeply to have to do it. It's as much to protect you as it is to protect me. But you have to realize there are more important things at stake here." Athelstan tried to speak, but I pushed on. "You can't judge the world around you based on your own beliefs and truths. Next summer, people will die in the raids. There's no changing that, and I don't care if that happens in Wessex, Mercia, or Paris." I paused, leaving Athelstan to ponder my words. I almost fell off the bench again as I heard a voice speaking up behind me. Ragnar was standing by the door, a sly smile on his lips and amusement in his eyes.

"So, Paris eh? Tell me more about this magical place that doesn't exist." As if nothing had happened he sat down again, sipping at the horn that still stood in front of him.

"It - It's a huge city in a country I know as France, on a river called the Seine."

"And this France, can I hope to sail there in my lifetime?"

"She means Francia," Athelstan supplied. He pointed it out on the map, and as I glanced up I saw Ragnar was very much liking this information. "I've heard of it too," he admitted, "but I doubt it's of interest to you. It's located on an island in the middle of a river. It's surrounded by huge walls, at least nine feet high, and three feet wide." I snorted at that. That sounded like a fortified village. I cleared my throat as I realized my mistake.

"Have you met Ragnar? No wall is going to stop him."

"What kind of treasure does the city hold?" he asked, turning to Athelstan. "Do they have a church?" I could see Athelstan's internal struggle.

"They have... Most of them are worthless to you, though."

"Christian omens," I clarified.

"Relics," Athelstan corrected automatically.

"You told me of relics before," Ragnar mused, taking in the priest. "We could always ransom them if they are truly as valuable as you say."

"But that's..." It was heart-breaking to see him struggle like this.

"Sacrilege," I provided. "I imagine they have some pieces of the cross their messiah was nailed to."

"Imagine? You've not been there?" Not in this lifetime...

"No. I just heard rumors. As I said -"

"I know what you said," Ragnar replied curtly. "Siggy needs your help." I recognized a harsh dismissal when it came my way. I got up and left, feeling strangely relieved. I'd gotten away with that rather easily. Every time Ragnar would squeeze me for information, I'd just give him another city that was bound to exist already.

Siggy wasn't expecting me for some time, so I took a walk around the town. The gray snow was turning into sludge, but I didn't mind. I needed some time to think. Ragnar still didn't have his answer, but for now... I'd gotten a reprieve. A small consolation, an extension of a deadline. Happy as that made me feel, I was pissed off at Athelstan all the same, and it overshadowed every feeling of relief I felt.


	17. The Seer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 07-03-800

Athelstan and I kept our distance after what had happened. I spent most of my time keeping myself busy cleaning up and taking care of the children. Growing more confident in my Norse every day, I started rehashing movie plots to tell the children in their language. Some went better than others. Retelling a tale such as the Lion King proved difficult as the first half hour Ubbe kept asking what lions were and didn't understand how land could not have mountains everywhere.

With the snow disappearing, I ventured out into the woods more and more. The thought there were trees growing now that might still be there in my time was mind-boggling. On one of those walks, I found myself missing the things I had known for all of my life. I started humming to myself, slowly adding the words of a song that would not be written for over a millennium. Sitting down against a mighty oak, I closed my eyes and dreamt of the few days I spent in the modern time Norwegian woods. I had found a calm then, I could relax. I almost fell back into the feeling, but the sound of footsteps approaching broke the spell I was falling under.

Floki was standing a few meters away, unsure of how I would react to his presence. I was just as unsure of what to do, and how he would react. I had broken off the song halfway through and chose to simply continue. He came closer and sat down, seeming to enjoy the song. As I finished, he spoke.

"Is that a song for your Christian god?" Of course, he jumped straight to a dialogue on religion.

"No. It's a song about a broken heart that never heals. I don't believe in the Christian god." This pleased him.

"Then what do you believe in?" I remained silent, not knowing if explaining the concept of atheism was a good idea. "Maybe you just haven't found the Gods yet," Floki says with a straight face. I let out a snort, my smile disappearing as I noticed Floki's expression turn hard.

"If there is any god I believe in, it is the god of tits and wine," I challenged him. I cared not for Floki and his strong opinions on the Viking religion. Getting a rise out of him could prove entertaining. "At the very least, those things have never disappointed me." Floki responded with a strange giggle. I wasn't sure if it signified amusement, or if it was a warning of sorts.

"You make no sense," he said, smiling. He rubbed a hand over his head and got up, walking back to where he came from.

Surprised by this strange encounter, I decided to walk back to the village. I wouldn't be able to enjoy the serenity of the woods knowing someone else was lurking about.

On the edge of the village, I ran into Ragnar. He had kept his distance from me as well since the Paris incident, and I feared what he had heard me tell Athelstan. Now he chose to talk to me, though.

"I looked for you."

"Siggy said I could walk around for a bit. What do you need me to do?"

"Follow me." I tried to keep my mind from reeling, every possible outcome racing through my mind. We walked in silence, him leading the way. He never looked back to see if I could keep up. For a moment I thought about making a run for it and leaving the village. A distant wolf howling immediately put a stop to that idea. I might want to start over somewhere else, but I didn't want to die. Did I?

Lost in thought I carried on, having to run a bit every now and then to keep up to the impressive Viking in front of me. He stopped suddenly in front of a run-down cabin.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked. I shook my head. Instead of enlightening me, he opened the door and entered. I followed him in, for lack of another option. The cabin was filthy and seemed abandoned. The only furniture was a small wooden coffee table and some shelves. Small bones were stringed up and put up as a gruesome sort of decoration. Why would Ragnar take me here?

"I want to know what you see," he spoke. I thought it a strange question, but I opened my mouth to answer. Before I could make a sound, a strange raspy voice answered. Next to the wooden table, a hooded figure sat, still as stone. If he hadn't made a sound, I wouldn't have noticed him.

"I see many things, Ragnar Lothbrok. Be more specific." Ragnar ushered me forward, to sit in front of the man. I could see under the hood now, and no amount of time could have prepared me for what I saw. His face was misshapen, one eye placed higher than the other. Not that I could see his eyes, they looked to be covered mostly by scarred skin.

"Ah, yes. I was wondering when we would meet," anticipation seeping through his voice. I chose to remain silent, not knowing what was expected of me. "My, my. This one is almost as scarred as I am. How do you call yourself, girl?" His phrasing surprised me. He didn't ask for my name, just how everyone in the village knew me. Athelstan was still the only person to know my real name.

"They call me Ragnhild." No one had to know this was a name from a game I used to play. It had been the best one to come to mind as I had spoken to Athelstan of an alternative name. I hoped my phrasing would let the strange man know I knew what he had done and hoped to plea for his help by keeping my demeanor downcast and respectful. Clearly, he demanded much respect, and having him on my side could prove useful.

"A good fit. But not the truth. Do you not pride yourself on telling the truth?" I cringed on the inside. So much for assuming he would help me out a bit. I was suddenly very aware of Ragnar standing behind me.

"Too much truth can be just as dangerous as lies," I cast in return. "A man such as yourself will surely understand that." This could turn really bad, real fast. I had to be careful of what I said and how I said it.

"I can see you fear many things, though you are not a coward. Some fears are sensible and justified, others are understandable yet unnecessary." Turning his head towards Ragnar, as though he could see the man standing, he continued. "You did well to bring her here. But now I must ask you to wait outside." He turned back to me, certain Ragnar would heed his words. I felt a rush of relief as Ragnar walked outside, accompanied by a feeling of impending doom.

"What questions burn inside you?" he asked with a grin on his face. "I can see all, but do not expect too much truth from me. As you said, it can be dangerous." I took a moment to gather my thoughts and a creeping silence took hold of the room. I broke it with a whisper.

"Will I be happy here?" The man scoffed at me.

"Yes, you may find happiness in this time. The only ones that can hinder it, are your demons." I felt a strange feeling take hold of me. I hadn't expected him to sound so much like a therapist. "And now stop insulting me. Ask what you really want to know. Ask yourself what you want." What was that supposed to mean? I desired to feel normal for a change, I needed to know if staying here was the best option for me. This time still felt strange, almost as strange as... As the man sitting across from me.

"When are you from?" A knowing smile took hold of his face. The scars on his face seemed even more horrible with the additional wrinkles caused by his smile.

"I came from the past. I will come from the future. I simply am." What was that supposed to mean? For someone known for answering questions, he was very bad at it. Every response only led to more questions rising to the surface. Was he toying with me?

"Why am I here?"

"Because the gods have their ways. Because your hurt can help heal. Because the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. You will leave your mark on this world, one way or another." I might've kept secrets to protect myself, but this was some next level vagueness.

"What will happen when they find out?"

"Kingdoms will fall apart. Families will be torn asunder. You will have to decide who lives and who dies." I should have known better than to ask such a vague question.

"When Ragnar finds out that I'm from the future, I mean."

"He will find out, but not until the blind man sees him. Frigg has decided on his fate."

"Will I ever be anything other than a slave?" The Seer burst into a laughing fit.

"If only you knew," he said, gasping for air. "As we speak your future is unfolding. You can be everything you wished to as a child, but you must earn it." Good. I didn't like things being handed to me. It could very easily be taken away.

"Will I find love?"

"Have you not already found it? Love is not something to be described by words and cannot be talked about lightly." I did feel very strongly about the boys, but it wasn't the kind of love I was hoping to find.

"Is there a way for me to be brought back to my own time?"

"You don't want to go back. I can see it in your heart. You wish to stay here. Why ask that question?"

"Because I fear this life here might be taken away."

"So loyal and faithful, you are. Your life is your own, but where you decide to go is your choice."

"That's not an answer to my question."

"I do not provide comfort or advice. I merely answer as the gods whisper in my ears."

"Is there anything you'd like to know about me?" The Seer remained quiet for a bit as if to think.

"In a hundred years, no one has asked me something like that. You truly are different. Though I know what the gods whisper to me, I am hardly asked what I think of things."

"Does that scare you? That I think to ask?"

"Change is fear itself. It summons a blending of the old and the new. After all that I've seen and heard, I cannot say I fear it any longer. I rejoice in it, as does your master." Athelstan had said something similar about Ragnar being different from the other Viking.

"What do the gods want from me?"

"They want you to stay, and they want you to go. They want you to live, and they want you to die. They want you to fight, and they want you to surrender." What the hell was that supposed to mean? "I confuse you. That's all right. Think on my words. We will meet again." Feeling as if I was dismissed, I got up. The man stuck out his hand, palm facing upward, catching me at a loss. Sensing my confusion, he spoke once more.

"The thing you fear most is fear itself. Though useful at times, you must embrace where you are now. Embrace our customs and decide for yourself. Now, lick my hand." Once more, the confusion rose inside me. Bending down a bit to adhere to the request, I licked the palm of the man.


	18. Athelstan's Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 07-03-800

Waiting outside, Ragnar was curious to find out what the Seer had said, but he didn't mention it.

"Wait here," he told me before he went back inside himself. I could still pick up some words as Ragnar and the Seer started talking, so I moved off a little to give them some privacy. It gave me a chance to think on what the Seer had said, as well. As he had put it, my life was full of contradictions. And yet, it was all so vague, it could have applied to anyone. I didn't believe in the gods anyway, so why would I be worried about how they thought I should live my life?

One thing had stuck out to me, though. My hurt could help heal. In a way, I already had when I'd saved Ubbe's life. After only a few minutes Ragnar came back out again, looking pensive as I joined him.

"You took your distance?"

"I felt like what the Seer had to tell you was yours alone to hear. Where I'm from its considered rude to listen in on private conversations."

"It's rude here, as well... But most would do it, anyway." He started walking towards Kattegat but kept an easier pace for me to keep up with, intent on having me walk beside him.

"It's not customary to share what the Seer told you, is it?" I asked after the cabin was long behind us.

"Indeed. Though if you wish to speak on it, you are free to do so."

"Why did you take me with you?" Ragnar eyed me curiously as if to decide he wanted to answer a slave, at all.

"You are a strange woman. I wanted to learn more, but then the Seer told me to wait outside. In all my years, I've never heard of him doing that."

"If you had asked me what he had said, I would probably have answered."

"But now you know you may refuse me. It must be a precious thing to have something to defy me over."

"I've never defied you for the sake of defiance. Only when I knew what harm it may have caused if I had obeyed."

"Yet you behave like you're only allowing me to believe you are my slave. You weren't one before you came here."

"Slavery wasn't even allowed back there. It's considered inhumane and cruel."

"Is it, now? Then why not run away? You must have had plenty of chances."

"I thought about it. But then I figured, what's the use? I may be able to speak now, but I still own nothing. I don't even know where I could run to. I know I can't survive out in the wilderness, and I don't know where I could even go. All I have is what you gave me. Besides, I think I have little to fear from you." I shouldn't have said that last part. Ragnar grabbed hold of my arm and forced me with my back into a tree. I didn't dare open my eyes or move. Even breathing was something I had trouble with, as I didn't want to make any sound.

"What did the Seer mean when he said you were scarred? Even your hand has healed."

"Some scars are inside you, not on your skin." I kept my eyes shut, pressing them closed even harder as I felt Ragnar push his body into mine.

"Then what made you this afraid of me? You just said you have little to fear from me."

"I know you won't hurt me," I breathed, trying to come up with a way to try and explain my fearful reaction. "But you remind me of the one who scarred me when you do this." Ragnar let go of me and stepped away, leaving me to catch my breath. My eyes were teary from the scare he gave me.

"You don't need to run away," he mused as I wiped off my eyes, "because you ran from whoever did it, all the way to here. You prefer being a slave here to being a free woman there, Ubbe told me. Do you fear you might see him again?" I hadn't specified anything about my father, not to anyone. As my eyes shot up, Ragnar raveled in the fact he'd been right. For now, it seemed best to let him believe he was. It placated him, at least for now.

"I fear many things," I said, keeping the truth somewhere in between. We started walking again, and I noticed I was very wary of any movements Ragnar made with the arm closest to me.

"Are there things you fear here?"

"I prefer to focus on what I don't fear."

"Then do you not fear me going to Paris?"

"I couldn't care less about Paris. Have at it. I do not share Athelstan's worries."

"If you want to stop your lessons with him..."

"He can still teach me things. If you'll allow it, I'd like to continue."

"I'll allow it... If only because you saved my son."

"He saved me, as well." I thought back to the first morning I spent here, and how Ubbe had dragged me out of bed. "Your sons now make me less sad."

"You barely make any sense to me."

"Then you understand me better than Floki." Ragnar scoffed and shook his head.

"I still don't know where you come from. Why won't you tell me?"

"Why do -" I shut up. It was not my place to ask him questions like that. I was being awfully familiar with him.

"Yes?"

"Why do you care?"

"Why do you?"

"I know how useless my answer would be to you. I wonder just how deep your curiosity runs."

"Then I wonder what took your curiosity away, and how you can know how useless your answer will be to me." He was just asking me things to get me to talk, to try and trip me up in my own words.

"Then I ask why you did not ask the Seer." He laughed, making me feel like I'd done something wrong. Ragnar still made me feel uncomfortable, even though I had been shown great leniency.

"You must realize the Seer does not answer questions directly." He had asked... He had done everything he knew to find out, and he had failed. All except trying to barter with me, which must be unthinkable for an earl to do with one of his own slaves. He wasn't quite that desperate to find out.

For the remainder of the walk, we remained silent. Lost in thought, I didn't even notice the passing of time as we had returned. Back in the hall, I asked Siggy if there was anything she could use help with, but sensing I probably wouldn't be able to fulfill even the smallest task, Siggy told me I could take the night off. Thankful, I went to the beach. The sun was already setting when I looked around and saw Athelstan sitting next to me.

"I came to apologize. I don't agree with everything you said, but you were right about me asking you personal questions. You may keep your truths for yourself, even though I will always remain curious. I see that now." Well, that was something, at least. I didn't know if this was an acceptable apology or not, so instead I told him about my visit to the Seer.

"Why did I have to lick his hand?" Perhaps that was what stuck with me most. I saw no benefit to it in any way, other than being gross.

"It is a sacrifice to the gods," Athelstan explained.

"What could that man possibly do with my spit on his hand?" I still didn't understand.

"That is for their gods to decide. Some truths can be too painful to know," he grinned. I pushed my elbow into his ribs, though a smile crossed my face. "The Thing will be held in a few days. That means we have known each other for a year, more or less." Athelstan was curious to see how I would react.

"Has it really been more than a year since I got here? It seems so much shorter." Not one to dwell on my emotions long, I pushed forward. "That explains why the town appears so lively."

Try as I might, memories of the Thing kept crawling back. My eyes tended to wander to where I had lain on the ground, the great fire pit at my back. How lucky had I been? Was I ever in any danger? Was I still in danger? Ragnar had continued behaving nice enough, apparently appeased with what I told him about Paris. I hadn't forgotten the rage that had poured out of his every fiber. It felt like walking on eggshells every time I noticed he was in the same room. Hearing his voice could make my skin crawl.


	19. Occupational Hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15-03-800

On the day after the Thing, two men were to be executed. The fact there even was a death penalty hadn't surprised me, though I thought it too harsh a punishment for anyone. My soft and bleeding heart had to get over that if I were to fit in eventually. It wasn't all that busy in the hall, so I dared approach Siggy with a request.

"Excuse me, Siggy? Do you have a moment?" She raised an eyebrow at my formal way of talking to her.

"And what would you ask of me, if I had a moment?"

"I have a favor to ask, but I'm not sure how you will react to it."

"Then ask, and find out."

"You took me to see a sacrifice once, and..." She took in a deep breath.

"Do you mean to stop it? With your ideas that every life is sacred?"

"No, not at all. I... Ragnar took me to the Seer, a week back." Now I had her undivided attention.

"So that's what they were fighting about," she muttered. "What did he tell you?"

"That I need to embrace life here." She eyed me warily.

"It's not all he told... No wonder you've seemed so pensive since then." She wanted to know more but didn't dare to ask. "And you now need my help to embrace life?"

"I do. I would like to witness the executions." Siggy stared for a second, then scoffed at me.

"You have no place there, you've not seen once since that goat."

"I can be strong," I said confidently. "Please. The Seer - the things he told me..." Siggy guided me to a bench, worry starting to appear in her eyes.

"What disturbs you so?"

"He told me that the gods want me to stay, and to go. I need to live, and I need to die. I need to fight, and I need to surrender. What does that even mean?" A smile came to her face.

"It means we have an execution to witness." She pulled me to my feet, suddenly full of life. Whatever the Seer had told me, she seemed to understand the meaning of his words better than I ever would.

The last time I had seen Ragnar swinging his blade outside of practice, Lucky had been sacrificed. I had to steel myself, though. If I was to survive, I had to accept that death was a large part of Viking life. Both men were to be put to the sword, both for committing murder. It wasn't like they were innocent.

The first man kissed the blade Ragnar held in his hands. I balled my hands into fists, determined to keep watching.

"Don't look away," Siggy told me. "Otherwise he won't reach Valhalla." It was over in a few seconds. I stared at the body, now sinking to the ground. Hardly any blood spattered, though Ragnar's blade was drenched in blood. It almost seemed like fake blood, the way it caught the light. The body was dragged away almost immediately, leaving a trail of blood. The second man now was put before Ragnar. He died in much the same way.

I told myself this was all just good showmanship. My face remained still, my breathing forcefully keeping a steady rhythm. Siggy took my arm, then took me back inside the great hall.

"You did surprisingly well," she noted.

"It all just happened so fast. I barely had time to even think about it."

"Then let's keep it that way. I'll take care of the boys tonight, you just worry about there being enough ale. They're always a bit rowdy after seeing blood spilled." I let out a nervous chuckle but did as she said.

The feast was almost starting, and my hands were kept busy as we served the men and a few women. I saw Bjorn and Lagertha sitting at one of the tables near Ragnar's family, but still at a respectable distance. I had learned Lagertha was Ragnar's ex-wife, and Bjorn their firstborn son. Siggy seemed to like them, so I did my best to serve them with extra care.

"You are the one who saved Ubbe's life, aren't you?" Lagertha spoke up as I moved to refill her cup.

"Yes, that was me."

"Had he been my son, I would have been thankful. I heard you were here only a few moons when it happened. How loyal you must be to your master." Her eyes showed a knowing, her voice tinged with a slight hint of sarcasm.

"The Seer told me the same," I answered.

"The Seer? Did you speak to him? What did he tell you?"

"That my life is my own, and that I decide where I will go." Then I remembered myself and quickly walked away to pour other cups. I couldn't believe I'd told Lagertha that.

Nearing the end, the boys were growing restless. I took Hvitserk and Sigurd to the back, giving them something to play with. Ubbe hadn't come with, he was too happy to be old enough to be a part of the Thing. I sometimes heard hooting, then cheering. Ragnar knew how to talk to a crowd. I was just happy to be away from all the ruckus. At one point I could hear Floki being mad about something, but there was too much noise to make out what he was angry about.

I contended myself with putting Sigurd to bed as he finally fell asleep. Hvitserk was too energetic to stay put for long but was happy to hear me try and tell the Star Wars plot line in Norse. His eyes filled with wonder, no doubt imagining a Viking ship with wings that could take him to the moon and the stars. He helped me with some of the words I had trouble with, enjoying the fact that he sometimes knew more than me. Just as I was telling him of bows that fit into one hand and shot light instead of arrows, Aslaug came to make sure Hvitserk got to sleep.

She dragged Ubbe after her, making him get ready for bed as well. Only now I noticed the noises of the hall had died down somewhat. The party was moved outside, where plenty of room and ale was to be found.

"You spoil him," Aslaug chided with a smile.

"He deserves to be spoilt."

"Can you teach him things as well?" Confusion spread across my face. "You speak well enough now, and you seem to understand our way of life. Siggy told me you witnessed the executions." I had almost forgotten about it already. Still, I was unsure of what Aslaug was getting at.

"What do you mean?"

"Athelstan will be joining the raid on England. That will mean you have more time for other things. Is there anything worthwhile you can teach my sons? Or will I have to find more tasks for you to fulfill?" Was Athelstan leaving? He was one of the two adults I had managed to form a bond with, and now he would go overseas and leave me behind. I tried to choke back my feelings, knowing this also was a part of being Viking.

"I don't know. There are many things I haven't tried. Perhaps I'll find a way to make myself useful." And like that, my daily routine changed up. Instead of spending a few hours a day with Athelstan, I was put to work in different ways. I spent a day fishing, which I was terrible at. I had to use some kind of spear which I held in my hand clumsily. Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed their asses off, watching me splash around in the cold water.

The next day I lost almost all the skin on my hands trying to learn how to make ropes. Just as I felt I was getting the hang of it, my instructor took the ropes away from me, seeming not pleased at all I had made such a bloody mess of it. The blacksmith's was hard work as well, the skin on my hands still not recovered. The work seemed interesting, but as I almost fainted from the heat and thick air, I saw the regretful look in the blacksmith's eyes.

The only thing I was fairly good at was working with the healer, Vinh, who took me gathering supplies in the woods. She made it very clear she was still mad over how Ragnar had chosen me to save Ubbe's life and was only taking me with her under duress. I asked her many questions, trying to insert my 21th-century knowledge. At one point she snapped, dragged me back to the great hall, and told Aslaug I was only good enough to feed the goats.

As the men departed for England, I was told to go to Floki. I was surprised he wasn't on the boats, but I didn't dare ask about it. Floki looked at me disdainfully, no doubt he had heard of my previous exploits. We went working outside of his house, working on some wooden planks. He tossed me a stone and told me to rub it over a scrap of wood until it was smooth. I was certain this wood was not to be used in one of the boats he was working on, but I did my best anyway. At the least the repetitive work made me feel calm.

Checking on my work every now and again, I could feel the wood started to become smooth. There were barely any splinters left. Floki examined my work and decided it would suffice for now. He gestured for me to continue working, but now on one of the large planks he had been working on himself only shortly before. I found some peace and quiet, not minding the silence one bit. It was only interjected with instructions from Floki every once in a while.

"Make that edge a bit more rounded. Don't focus on that area too much. Start on the next one." A blond woman named Helga brought us water once, but otherwise, we kept working. After a few hours, Floki sat down, calling me over to sit next to him.

"I heard you were awful at everything you tried, even healing."

"I never had to work with my hands before. At least I enjoyed today."

"You did?"

"I like the calm. And you haven't yelled at me or gave me one of those disappointed looks."

"You will do," he said. "Come back tomorrow." I returned to the village, all too happy I could finally bring good news to Aslaug.


	20. Making Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-03-800

The next day I made it back to Floki's. I wasn't in a great mood, feeling sad about life in general once again. Without a word, I continued my work, as did Floki. A stone, a plank of wood, that was all I needed to keep myself occupied.

The hard work started to hurt my hands after a while. I winced as my fingers ached every time I pulled the stone over the planks.

"What is it?" Floki asked. He'd noticed instantly, making me wonder just how close he had been watching me.

"Nothing. My hands need to get used to the work, is all." I continued, trying to keep the wincing to a minimum. Floki wasn't satisfied, however.

"Let me see," he said as he took hold of my hands. Reluctantly I opened them, allowing Floki to move his bony, calloused fingers over my smooth but red skin. "You never worked a day in your life before you came here, did you?"

"I did plenty of work," I retorted, remembering all the temp jobs I'd gone through to keep a roof over my head. "Just not that much that involved my hands. It's nothing, really."

"I've met princesses who had more calloused hands." Nothing I would say would make Floki's interest go away. "These are smooth like a baby's. And still, you tell me you enjoy this work?" Floki kept touching my fingertips and palms, looking flabbergasted skin could feel so soft.

"I don't mind if my hands grow rougher."

"Why would you not mind?"

"Because I don't really care. I'm already too different from the others, I'd welcome something that makes me like the rest. Do I have to remove that knot, or can I just pass over it?" I said as I looked at a dark spot on the wood. I'd rather go back to work than spend more time talking about my hands.

"Just leave it, removing it will damage the stability. How come you think yourself different?" I had to scoff at that. Floki was not one to leave something unanswered.

"It'd be faster to tell you why I'm not different."

"Then tell me what makes you like us."

"I'm... Human." There really wasn't that much to say. At least it served to make Floki laugh out loud.

"Are you sure? You hesitated, didn't you? Then I wonder, what makes you so special?"

"I'm short, I'm skinny, I'm damaged, I'm still very much ignorant of your ways, I'm -"

"Why do you say you are damaged? I see no marks on your skin."

"Not all scars can be seen." Floki just stared at me, waiting for me to continue. Eventually, it grew so uncomfortable I did. "I know how cruel this world can be, and what it can do to people. It can be fun and worthwhile, or so I've heard, but I've seen so many bad things, I don't think I can ever be truly happy again. I just know trouble and disaster."

"Then how do you plan to spend your life? Miserable and alone?"

"If that means I won't get hurt anymore, I just might. I'd rather be miserable than hurt, and I'd rather know loneliness than knowing I'd never feel safe."

"For someone as privileged as you, you sure have a bleak outlook on life."

"Privileged?" I scoffed. "I'm a slave, I have no say on what I get to do or what happens to my body. Slavery doesn't exist where I come from. Everyone has the right to do what they will with their body, and not be chastised or hindered because of it. If women are with child but decide they don't want the baby - either because they can't take care of it or because they don't want one - they can stop the baby from growing. If old people feel like they suffer too much from whatever sickness ails them, they can choose to end their life as they wish, on their own terms."

"People are free to decide that here, as well. Although it is rare for a woman to actively end their growing child, and we rarely have old people because so many die before they reach that ripe old age."

"Well, imagine a land where most of the people get to celebrate at least turning 80. Some even get to over a hundred years old."

"That's not possible. The oldest person I have ever seen was 70."

"Then you are innocent in the ways of aging gracefully."

"Maybe you are innocent to the hard life we live here." I scoffed again.

"No doubt. I am innocent in a lot of things, yet know too much about others. I'm barely 24 years old, I still have a long life ahead of me."

"You're that old?" Floki asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Well, yeah. How old did you think I was?"

"Based on your skin, we all thought 16. Maybe 14 if you hadn't had such a large chest." I laughed out loud at that.

"Thank you for the compliment, I guess."

"Don't you have any children?"

"Oh gods, please no. I'm barely able to take care of myself. And ever since I got here I became a slave, how would I ever have a baby and provide for it? Besides, no one has ever tried to force himself on me. For which I'm thankful, I have no desire to become a mother under these circumstances."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that. Some slaves try to get pregnant to have the father claim their babies as their own, as is customary. Getting pregnant is pretty much a guarantee for becoming a free woman unless the man turns out to be a coward." I just sighed at that.

"Tell that to all the crying women in the barn. They've been used so many times, they cry themselves to sleep almost every night."

"Why don't you?"

'I've never been used like that. At first, I thought it'd be only a matter of time, but it seems I'm really good at making myself invisible. People barely notice when I'm around."

"Well, your curse deters a lot of men. And now you mention it, I barely notice you around if I'm not looking for you." I didn't want to discuss the IUD. It had been giving me headaches enough without the Viking trying to get me to talk about it.

"I hate to be noticed by people. I prefer the shadows and dark corners. I don't like it when people look at me. Even being put above the other slaves because Ragnar trusts me is something I have great difficulty with."

"What makes you say that?"

"If no one can see you, they won't hurt you. They don't even know you're there. If no one can find you, how can you be hurt?"

"That sounds a lot like cowardice."

"Is that a bad thing? It helps me avoid unwanted attention."

"You certainly have my attention now." I suddenly felt very aware of his eyes gazing into mine. A chill ran down my spine as I realized I was out here in the woods, with only Floki around. I'd never be able to get away from him. This was his playground.

"Would you hurt me?" I tried to say the words full of confidence, but my voice wavered as I stumbled through. Floki had to think on my question for a moment. I got ready to run.

"If I hurt you, would you still be able to help me?" The way he looked down on me reminded me of how Ragnar had stared me down at the Thing.

"Probably not." My response was half a whisper, the words catching in my throat.

"Then I won't hurt you. You are more useful to me working than you are dead. Though I do wonder why it is you seem to be able to help me." Floki turned away to inspect my work, making me think he spoke truly about not wanting to hurt me. Still, my heart raced, and my palms were sweaty.

"I had a brother once who used to make things from wood. He taught me how to help him."

"And did that brother ever hurt you?" Memories were lining up to flood my brain, but I shoved them away.

"He knew just how to hurt me with as little effort as possible. But I can never see him again, no matter how hard I might try. He's as good as dead to me."

"Does that make you happy?" I had to think about that.

"Sort of. I like it my past is not able to hurt me. No, I should say the past is no longer able to hurt me. I still carry wounds you cannot see, but I can feel them. I've been treated awfully. I don't even regret not knowing how to get back. I'm glad to be here now."

"You'd rather be a slave here than a free woman back home?" I nodded. "You make no sense," Floki said. We kept on working in silence after that.


	21. The Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-04-800

As the days passed, Floki and I had started talking about even more private matters during our breaks. It was mostly simple talk about the work or gossip from the village, but we got to know each other better and better. I was glad Ragnar had decided to keep him here during the raid as he was one of the few human friends I had. There was one thing I desperately wanted to know, though. Sitting somewhere in the woods, I gathered up my courage and asked.

"Floki," I started, then halted. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"What is it? If you have questions, ask them." I bit my lip for a bit, wondering how best to formulate my sentence.

"Well, it's - There's this thing I've been wondering about..."

"Which is?"

"I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask, but it's... I can't not think about it."

"I might answer if you tell me what you want to know." I took a deep sigh, held it in for a bit, then threw it out.

"What happened last year during the Thing?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I can't stop thinking about it, lately. Were you there? Will you tell me?" I gazed up at him, hoping he would answer.

"Why not ask Ragnar, or that priest?" Because Ragnar was terrifying and I didn't want him to notice me, I thought to myself. Plus, they were both away raiding.

"Because they're away right now, and I can't wait for them to get back to ask."

"Ragnar still scares you, doesn't he?"

"Kind of... I don't feel comfortable around him all the time. He's... Intense."

"Why do you talk around things all the time? Why not give a straight answer?"

"Why do you answer my questions with a question of your own?" I started to get a bit irritated, a habit during interactions with the eccentric boat builder.

"Will you answer my questions if I answer yours?" Glad to be getting somewhere, I nodded my head.

"What happened?" I was dying to find out, hanging on his every word. As he started speaking, he seemed pleased I was so attentive.

"You were brought in after the sentencing, as no one had any idea of what or who you were. We needed to find out. Were you a runaway slave? Sent by the gods perhaps? The men who brought you in thought you were a spy. But I asked myself, why would a spy walk through the forest, all alone and naked as the day she was born? It made no sense." I grimaced, imagining how it must have looked from the eyes of the woman who first laid eyes on me.

"The men were growing restless, thinking Ragnar took too long. I remember I wanted him to hurry up, so I could drink. But then you did the most peculiar thing. You knew nothing of our ways, or our language. And yet, you impressed him. He held a knife to your throat, and you just stood there. You bled in front of all to see, and remained standing where you stood. You did the only thing that could have led to you leaving there alive. You defied him." A giggle escaped his lips, clearly enjoying the memory. "From that moment on, he grew interested. You were so timid and afraid, while at the same time showing a fire unlike anything he had ever seen in a foreigner. And he thought you could give him information on new lands to raid. That is why you lived." Floki enjoyed the emotions running across my face. At the time I had wanted to die, and apparently, I did the one thing that would keep me alive. And it all seemed to be the result of some seriously fucked up misinterpretation on both sides.

"Now you shall answer a question for me. Is it true you were naked when you were found?" I started blushing, avoiding his gaze. He giggled again, a mighty grin spread across his face. He was obviously imagining my naked body in the woods, another fond thought.

"I had a cloth of sorts, but otherwise I was naked. Why are you here when the others are raiding?" Floki spat on the ground before him. For a second I felt like I had pushed him too far.

"Ragnar wanted me to stay here and build boats. Is it true you are cursed?" My blushing stopped, my face growing sullen. A chill ran down my spine, despite the pleasant summer weather. Ignoring my discomfort, Floki just looked at me, inquisitive eyes as usual. I let out a deep sigh before I spoke.

"Yes, and no," I decided on, hoping he would leave it at that. Of course, he didn't.

"Ragnhild? Why does this trouble you so?" Could I trust him to keep it to himself? Would he even understand? His eyes remained friendly and calm.

"I... I like not bleeding every moon. I like not having children." At that declaration, he seemed shocked. "At least not now," I quickly added. "I want to be able to provide for my child, not having to depend on others." He eyed me even more curious now.

"Why do you not want help? Is that not why we live in villages together? Work on these wretched boats for Ragnar? Is that not the reason we band together when we go raiding?" His questions only made the topic more blurry.

"I have no one who can help me," I told my feet. At that, Floki blew a raspberry.

"Are you blind? Do you not see the people around you? Do they not help you speak? Do the gods not guide you?" This was getting nowhere. There were no words he would understand to explain I couldn't trust anyone, how I never felt safe, not even in my own body. I needed to control at least this part of my life, I needed to have a choice. I decided to return to answering the question that had started this awkward conversation.

"That doesn't change the fact I'm still a slave," I said determined as Floki calmed down a little.

"Ragnar freed the priest when he got out of him what he wanted. Why would you assume he won't free you after a time?"

"What are you implying? That Ragnar could free me when he gets back? Did you hear something?"

"Not so hasty, Ragnhild. We're speaking of other things first." So now he wanted to stick to one subject. Right now, it seemed to me Floki didn't make any sense. "I ask again, why does the curse trouble you?"

"I know how to break it. But I'm afraid of what will happen if I do. And I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't. I have to do it soon though before the leaves fall to the ground. After then, it won't matter either way." I had no idea what leaving an IUD in for too long could do, but I imagined it would be bloody, painful, and most likely disgusting. I already noticed increased cramping each moon and last night I found a few drops of blood between my thighs when bathing. The beginning of the end.

"What are you afraid of?" Floki's voice was soft, careful even. He wanted me to tell him to satisfy his curiosity, and now he was trying a new approach.

"Pain, mostly. Damage to my body. Bleeding out and dying." Now, it was Floki's turn to become irritated.

"You fear death? You fear pain? You bled in front of Ragnar, you showed no fear then." His voice sounded angry as if he wanted to attack me.

"Things have changed since then," I said defiantly, not wanting to shrink down at his anger. I'd grown since last year.

"For the worse, it seems. What was so different then? Huh? What made you a coward?"

"I'm not a coward, Floki."

"You sound like one! What was so different back then!"

"That was when I had wanted to die!" I shouted out in frustration, shifting my body to look Floki in the eye. "I wanted Ragnar to kill me, to end my suffering. I hoped he would cut my throat and grant me peace. I wanted him to set me free!" Floki now scowled at me. Suicide was heavily frowned upon, despite all the bold talk of reaching Valhalla after death. He stood up, spitting in front of my feet. He put a hand on the axe strapped to his belt.

"And now? If you desire to die, you need only say so." I lowered my eyes, feeling tears stuck to my eyelashes.

"Floki, stop it." He hung his body above me, one hand resting above my head on the trunk of the tree.

"What do you want!" His voice raised into a shout, daring me to respond. He kept shouting at me relentlessly, droplets of spit falling on my face. Despite my resolve, I started to shrink until Floki seemed like even more of a giant than he already was.

"I want to live," I whispered. Saying it aloud didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Floki didn't hear me over his own shouting, so I repeated it again. He still ignored me, flaring up the anger that grew inside me.

"I want to live! I want to be free! I want to fuck and drink and be happy!" Apparently satisfied, he slumped down next to me and giggled. I stared at him, not knowing what had just happened.

"You still make no sense," he said as if he'd played some joke on me. We sat for a while, just staring into the woods. My mind drifted away, the tears dried on my cheeks. For all his quirks and flaws, Floki had stirred something inside me. Something I had thought long gone, thrown out with the garbage. He broke the serene silence, bringing me back to the present.

"What do you need to break your curse?" The inquisitive glimmer in his eyes was just like before as if he hadn't shouted at me at all. I thought about it and didn't really know. Though I had been looking around the village, no tools that could help with the removal were around.

"Bandages. A woman with strong hands, preferably one that knows not to talk of what will happen. Fresh water, a large clean cloth to lay on. Something to make me forget what is happening. A lot of luck." The IUD would have to be pulled out by hand. Just the thought of the device being pulled from my uterus was enough to dampen any feeling of safety and comfort. Floki seemed surprised once again. He made no comment, however, getting up and pulling me off the ground as well.

He kept one of my hands in his, pulling me after him. His long legs made it difficult for me to keep up with his pace. I almost stumbled on loose rocks a few times, but Floki kept me upright. As we approached his home, he couldn't contain a giggle.

"Helga!" he called out. The blonde woman came looking, not surprised to see the two of us walking hand in hand. "Ragnhild needs your help with something," and he rattled off the list of things I came up with barely half an hour ago. A sudden fear filled me, anxious Floki was suggesting what I thought he was planning. He whispered into her ear, her face not betraying what she thought of the weirdness of it all.

By the time Helga had gathered all of the things Floki told her to fetch, I stood by rubbing my temples. I couldn't believe what they were doing. Why was I even still here?

"Floki, why are you doing this?" Helga grabbed one of my hands and gave it a squeeze as if I shouldn't expect a response out of him. Knowing him, the woman was probably used to not getting a straight answer when asking him that question. Floki looked down at me, fidgeting and grinning in anticipation. He reminded me of a child wanting to open presents on his birthday, being told he had to wait just a bit longer. With a nod of his head, he gestured towards the stuff, not knowing what to do with it. I could only sigh out of frustration, not knowing what to say.

"Do you not want to be happy? Do you not want to fuck? No man will touch you with the curse still on you. They're convinced their pricks will fall off if they try to claim you." His eyes turned intense, his demeanor shifting from giddy to serious in the blink of an eye. I closed my eyes, resigning myself to my fate. He was right. Begging for time to prepare would only make it worse. I had avoided making any decision on the issue for a long time, it was better to just get it over with. Not granting him the pleasure of hearing I thought he was right, I moved to spread out the cloth, laying down on it. Taking a deep breath to prepare myself, I told Helga what to expect. Floki tried to walk away, much to my dismay.

"What do you think you're doing?" Noticing the chilling tone of my words, he turned around and stared at me through slitted eyes. "Did you not tell me I was blind to the people around me? Do you not care about my happiness? Would you leave me to fight this alone?" Huffing loudly and often, he debated if he should stay or not.

Helga washed her hands in the water, not uttering a sound, but a barely visible smile flashed on her face. Very unhappy about this development, Floki sat down next to me. I took hold of his hand, gripping it tightly. Helga was ready to start, and with her help, I pulled up my skirts. I took a deep breath and talked her through the steps again as she performed them. It was more to comfort me than anything else. Helga's hand slipped between my thighs, entering my body. She found the wire I told her about, looking a bit fazed by how it felt.

I picked a spot on the ceiling and focused on it intently. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Floki stealing a glance at what his partner was doing, curiosity getting the best of him. I tried not to think about the vulnerable situation I was in, hoping it would all soon be over. Helga tried a few different grips, sensing it would be hard enough for me when she would start pulling on the string. She didn't have much length to work with. I told her she could carefully pull on it a bit, giving her more string to hold on to. I let out a groan of discomfort as I felt my uterus cramping up a bit already. I nodded, and Helga pulled hard on the string.

I screamed out, feeling as if my intestines were being pulled out with a hook. Tears fell down my face, my uterus cramping heavily in protest to what was happening. After a few moments, I realized Helga's hand was still inside of me. Her face looked full of guilt and sorrow.

"It slipped," she said with a pitiful sigh. "I'll get it next time." I moaned in discomfort. This wasn't something I could get past just by thinking happy thoughts.

The cramping stopped flaring up, and Helga gave it another go. She tried it more slowly this time, hoping to prevent another slip. I cried out again, not able to deal with the pain any other way.

"God fucking dammit! How the fuck did I get in this fucking mess!" Slowly but steadily I felt the device leaving my uterus. Drops of sweat were beading on my forehead. The extended arms were still to come out, I could feel them brushing against the uterine wall. I refocused and started puffing as if I was in labor. The arms would fold up, but I wasn't looking forward to it. Helga pulled sharply, causing me to scream again. I shouted out curses in all the languages I knew. Then, all of a sudden, the pain went away. It was over. I would never have to worry about it again.

I looked up at Helga, who seemed intrigued by the plastic thing she still held in her hand. I realized she would never see anything made of plastic again, nor would anyone in a thousand years.

A laugh escaped my mouth as I dropped my head back on the cloth. Sensing everything had gone fine Floki let go of my hand, moving towards Helga. When I opened my eyes again, they were both looking at me, not knowing what to think. After a few deep breaths, I pulled myself up a bit, eager to cover up my private parts again with the skirts. Helga dropped the thing on the bed and started washing her hands. From what I could see there was barely any blood in the water. It must have been residue from my increasing periods, as it looked more smiley than like real blood.

Floki moved around, wringing his hands, not knowing what to do with his body. He rubbed his head a few times as if to wrap his head around what had come out of me. I was glad to have it over with. Despite the pain I had felt, it all went much smoother than I had thought. The cramping was almost gone, my uterus no longer bothered by the strain. Convinced I was past the light-headedness, I got up carefully. I knew we weren't done yet.

"Are you okay? Shouldn't you lie down for a bit?" Helga sat down next to me, putting a hand on my forehead.

"I'll be fine," I smiled, "I might feel a bit queasy in a bit, but that'll pass. Thank you, for helping me." As she started gathering the stuff we'd used, I realized what a great woman she was. To the rest of them I was a slave, and here she was, just wanting to help out. She didn't even know me all that well, and I couldn't fathom what kind of fate she had saved me from. Just not having to worry about it anymore was a huge weight off my shoulders. Floki didn't seem surprised at Helga's efficiency, much rather focusing on me. I took hold of the IUD and wrapped it in a piece of cloth before he could think to examine it again.

"This needs to disappear. It can't hurt anyone, but no one can ever lay eyes on it again." Happy to finally know what to do, Floki led me out of the house. He kept fidgeting, lost in thought all along the way. I had no idea where we might be headed, but even in my twisted, mistrusting mind I couldn't think of a reason for Floki to hurt me after everything he had done for me today. I was starting to trust him, if only a little.

We stopped at the base of a giant oak. The roots had started to come above ground, its crown towering above all the other trees around. Just from standing near it, I realized this tree was ancient. Floki turned to me with a questioning look, and I nodded. This would do.

I started digging with my bare hands, praying to no one in particular that no one would find it ever again. How long would it take for the thing to disintegrate? I placed the cloth at the bottom of the hole and quickly covered it up. I stared at its resting place for a while. This problem was now solved, but this opened up a whole new array of problems. I would have to be careful if I didn't want to get pregnant. Being a slave with my 'curse' now lifted, that could prove difficult. From what Floki told me, the disinterest men had shown me could very well change soon - at least until the news got out. I could buy myself some more time.

"Come now. It's best not to dwell on that curse for long." Floki helped me get up, pressed his index finger at my forehead and shook his head. He did that sometimes but never told me what it was for, or what it meant. I figured it was something to do with his faith, and I didn't want to ask him that kind of personal questions.

He walked me back to the village, obviously filled with questions and unease. He must have felt insecure about asking me what he wanted to know.

"What were you screaming? When the... During..." I choked down a snort. Was the mighty Floki finally lost for words?

"It was just a whole lot of cursing, in a whole lot of tongues." I glanced up to see how he would react to that. A nervous laugh appeared, the corners of his lips twitching.

"No wonder you looked so sad all the time, with that thing inside you. Now you will be happy, yes?" Hesitating on how to respond, I took a deep breath.

"It will help," I finally said, not convinced myself. The closer we got to the village, the more Floki returned to his regular self. That is to say, regular for Floki. By the time we got to the hall I called home, he had a strut in his step once again, not hesitating to step inside and grab two horns of ale.

"Now we drink," he clarified as he handed me one of the horns. Slamming his horn against mine, he uttered a giggle and chugged the ale down. Not wanting to be rude and unfamiliar with the drinking habits, I followed suit. A twinkle of amusement showed in his eyes once again as I emptied the horn. He called for Siggy to refill the horns, who was a bit surprised to find me sitting across from Floki with a horn in my hand. She was unaccustomed to seeing me drink, as I mostly avoided crowded gatherings where alcohol was involved. Answering for me, giddy at sharing the news, he told her what had happened.

"Ragnhild got rid of her curse. She fought bravely, and now we celebrate!" I smiled at her apologetically, not knowing how to react. Mostly I wanted to bash his head in for giving up my one line of defense the first chance he got. Siggy stared for a bit, then hugged me and professed her joy. Without further questions, she filled our horns, glad to oblige. It felt strange being served, after a year of having to serve others. Siggy had refilled my horn before I could even tell her I'd get up myself. Then, she sat down and put her hand on top of my belly. I gave a careful glance, not knowing why she made the gesture.

"Do you know? Will it be a boy or a girl?" I almost choked on the swallow of ale in my mouth. How fast did she think I was getting it on? "Who is the father?"

"I am not with child yet," I clarified. "The curse has been broken this afternoon, I did not have sex."

"But - how do you know it worked?" Siggy looked at me, doubt filling her eyes. How could I spin this into a likely story? Lucky for me, Floki was once again answering for me.

"The gods were there," his eyes growing big and reverent, intently staring into Siggy's eyes. My eyes went wide as well, but it was more shock than anything else. "I saw the curse leave her body with my own eyes. Do you think me a liar?" The atmosphere quickly grew tense, Siggy obviously at a loss for words. Floki ignored her and turned his gaze to me. He leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"What do you know of the gods?" I knew he was fond of talking about them, but at a time like this? I didn't want to disappoint him after all he'd done for me and rattled off some basics I had gathered. It was just a bit more than I had known before I had come here. He seemed to appraise me, horn in hand and a strange look on his face.

"The priest has failed. I will tell you more." Before I could respond, he got up and left the hall. If anything, the lack of his impish giggle unnerved me the most.

"You must have impressed him," I heard Siggy say. "What happened?"

"I err... I'm starting to doubt that myself."

"Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened. No woman should be without a child at your age." I chuckled nervously until I realized Siggy meant it.

"Who knows what will happen," I choked out more to keep her at ease than me.

"Only the gods know," Siggy assured me. "You do look a bit pale... Are you sure you're feeling well?"

"It's nothing, I'm -" My body finally feeling the effects of the tiring day I had, I decided to be honest with her. "Maybe it's best if I lie down for a bit. If that's okay, I don't mean to impose..."

"I'm sure we'll manage one dinner without you." Siggy couldn't resist hugging me again now the air was friendly again, then shooed me off to bed.


	22. Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-04-800

Some of the men had started looking at me differently, but their wives were always around. I learned it was a huge insult to have your husband claim a slave, preferring someone not considered human over his wife, which made me stick around groups of women for safety. With the other men still gone raiding, I had been able to prevent any unwanted attention so far, as most single men were off to England. Staying invisible was hard, though. With the news of my curse being lifted being a hot topic, people coming up to verify whatever kooky story they had come up with about how I got the curse in the first place, I found myself sneaking around the town whenever I had to go outside.

I felt caught in a catch 22. On the one hand, I needed to be around people to stay safe, and on the other, I needed to be alone to feel safe. It was impossible to choose. And most times, the choice was forced upon me, like when I had to run an errand. The goats still needed to be fed, and Siggy didn't like it when I carried the buckets through the hall where everyone could see the buckets. Walking through the back took longer, and the alley formed by the long hall and the barn beside was perfect for ambushes. In my mind, I had already fought off many men here.

"That looks heavy," a man said behind my back. The blood ran away from my face, and I knew he wanted me to stop walking. I kept on going, dragging the pails of food with me on my shoulders. Maybe if I ignored him, he'd leave me alone. "I said, that looks heavy. Do you need some help?" I took a steadying breath and turned around. Already I felt cold sweat breaking out.

"I'm fine sir, thank you for asking." Before I could return to dragging the pails out to the goat pen, he grabbed hold of my arm. I didn't even recognize him, he'd rarely been in the hall the past year. He must have been with a merchant. His eyes looked cruel.

"Nonetheless, I'm offering to help. It's very rude to refuse such an offer." I kept my eyes downcast, as if to convince myself he wasn't really there if I couldn't see his face. I didn't even move, for that matter. He was a predator, and any sudden movement might set him off, would make him sink his teeth and claws in me.

His hands brushed against my breasts as he reached for the shoulder pole that carried the weight of the pails. Everything I noticed about him made me more afraid. His closeness, the musky smell from furs that weren't aired out recently, his disgusting breath. The way his arms were so close to my head, making me feel trapped between him and the weight on my shoulders.

I stopped breathing when he lifted the pole, putting the buckets on the ground. He seemed like the type that wanted me to fight him, if only a little. He wanted to conquer me. Running away would only make things worse, as he was sure to catch up with me in no time.

"What's your name?" he asked, trailing his hand through my hair. I kept my eyes on the ground. As he pulled on my hair, forcing me to look into his eyes, I took in a sharp gasp. It took all my resolve to keep the tears welling up. 

"Does it matter?" I half whispered.

"Who is your master?" One of his hands snaked up to my neck as if to choke me. Terrified, I tried to look around if someone I knew would be able to intervene. He noticed and slammed my back against the wall, keeping his hand on my throat and starting to squeeze. "I said, who is your master?" I could only wheeze, still not sure if I should even do or say anything. His eyes pierced mine, making me wish I could just disappear.

"Ragnhild?" That was Ubbe's voice.

"He is," I said as I tried to look at the boy who was saving me yet again. "Ubbe Ragnarsson is my master." The man turned around to look at the boy.

"Why are you hurting her?" Ubbe asked, trying to sound commanding. "Let her go." The man grunted and let go of my neck, making me take in a shallow breath. He was still so close I felt frozen in place.

"I didn't realize she was one of yours," he muttered. Somehow, I felt he wanted to push me back into the wall and continue where he left off. His body gave off a dangerous vibe, and those eyes...

"What's your name?" Ubbe demanded, sounding more like the earl's son he was than he had a second ago. I saw him straighten his back as the man took him in, wanting to look more intimidating. Whatever Ulf had wanted to do to me, he decided it was best not to attract any more attention than he already had.

"Ulf."

"Stay away from her, Ulf." He angrily marched off, allowing me to take in a deep breath. I felt myself sink down until I rested on the ground. Now the threat had gone, I felt tears pushing to the surface as the tension was released from my body. By some miracle, I was saved. I focused on lowering my breath as it caught in my throat, soft audible gasps coming from me as I did.

"Thank you," I whispered as I saw Ubbe kneel beside me.

"What did he want from you?" he asked. "It's okay if you need to cry. I won't tell." His attempt to sound like my caretaker made me laugh through my tears. I wiped them away and pulled Ubbe close. Just for a moment I allowed myself to feel how scared I had been.

"I don't know what he wanted, Ubbe. But I know that it was bad and that you saved me. I owe you." Normally he'd never allow it this publically, but now he didn't object to me stroking his hair the way I did.

"You mean we're even. You saved me once, too."

"Trust me, Ubbe. I still owe you a hundred times over." I planted a kiss on his forehead and got up again. "What were you doing here in the first place?" Ubbe got up as well and had to think for a second.

"Floki wanted to see you, something about your curse?"

"Oh, right. I'll err..."

"Mother says it's okay if you finish feeding the goats first. He's waiting in the hall." Ubbe walked me the rest of the short way left to go, and then helped me feed the goats, not really noticing but sensing I'd rather not be alone right now. As I strew the vegetable rests around, Ubbe absent-mindedly petted Floki. "Did that man want to hurt you?" I turned around to face him, unsure of what to say. Did he even understand the concept of rape? Or what it meant to me he had saved me from it?

"I think he might have if you hadn't found me when you did." I finished the work and gathered the pails in a stack. Ubbe was still thinking to himself, looking up surprised when I touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"It's just... I never saw you cry before. Were you really that scared?"

"I actually cry quite a lot, especially when I'm scared. I cried when you almost died, and when I first got here, and sometimes just because I feel like it. What matters is that you saved me and that I'm fine."

"You promised me once you wouldn't lie to me..." I put down the buckets and sank down on my haunches, looking Ubbe in the eye. "Why are you not telling me the truth? You know what I'm really asking."

"I did promise, and I'm not breaking it. I'm just not sure if you can handle all of the truth."

"I don't like it when people try to hurt you. I care about you."

"Then we make a fine pair. We care about each other and protect one another. What matters is that he didn't hurt me, and you were there for me when I needed you. You sounded just like your father, when you talked to him. I was very impressed."

"I did scare him a little," he admitted with a tiny smile. Ulf had probably just been irritated, but I doubted Ubbe would ever see him again. Some positive reinforcement was just what Ubbe deserved and needed.

"Let's go back inside, the other Floki is waiting for me." Ubbe still seemed a little upset, but I couldn't dissuade his fears of me getting hurt. I didn't even know how Viking law handled it, other than that touching a free woman against her will was bad. As a slave, I was just considered property.

In the hall, Floki jumped up as soon as he saw me.

"Took you long enough to feed the goats," he grinned as he watched me put away the pails. "Hello, Ubbe." His eyes shot me a questioning glance as he saw Ubbe's distraught expression.

"I got held up a bit, I'm sorry I made you wait." Floki left the hall at quite a brisk pace, making me skip after him. I threw back a wave at Ubbe, then turned my attention to the streets outside. I was terrified of seeing that Ulf again. Floki would no doubt protect me, if only because he didn't want to wait any more than he already had.

"You seem... Off."

"I had a strange conversation earlier... I'd rather not talk about it."

"Really? Did it have anything to do with how upset Ubbe was?" My eyes shot up, but he wasn't even facing me. Just how had he figured it out?

"How did you know?"

"I have eyes to see. What did you tell the boy to make him that upset?"

"It wasn't like that... He saw something he had no business seeing, then got involved." As we turned around a corner, I thought I saw Ulf. I took in a sharp breath and nearly bumped into Floki. I didn't dare look up at him as I distanced myself a little. His grueling pace at least explained my sudden shortness of breath, or so I thought.

"What did Ubbe see, exactly? It must have been quite the sight if it makes you jump my bones."

"I - I was on my way to the goats when this guy got a little too familiar. Ubbe found me before anything happened and sent the guy away. He saw how scared I was, and that made him upset."

"And what did that man you're trying to find do to you?" My eyes flashed back in front of me. I felt caught.

"He wanted to know if I was a slave and who was my master, then threw me against a wall when I didn't answer."

"What did he look like?" I wasn't too sure how I felt about this interrogation. It was almost as if Floki already knew but just wanted me to say it out loud.

"I - I don't know. I just remember his eyes. Brown, light enough to see the pupil. There's this vein in the white of his left eye that looks like an arrow. He wanted to hurt me."

"You know that, but can't remember what color his hair was? Or what he wore?"

"If it's really that important to you, Ubbe will probably remember. I was more concerned with survival than anything else. I didn't recognize him, he must have been a merchant or something like that. He smelled like he has been out at sea for a while. When Ubbe interrupted I told the guy I belonged to him, and then he told Ubbe his name was Ulf."

"Hmm." Floki's eyes darted around the streets. "Next time someone comes asking about Ragnar and his family, you tell us immediately."

"Err... Sure. Who's us?"

"Those Ragnar trusts. You must have noticed who he keeps close." I had caught enough snippets of late night conversations to know who Floki was talking about. We remained silent for a while as we made our way out of the town and into the forest, both seemingly lost in thought. I couldn't really fathom who would want to ask me anything about Ragnar, no one ever paid me any mind whenever there was something secretive going on.

Floki stopped in the middle of a clearing, where the sun shone down on us. He sat down, looking all kinds of serious as he took me in. I'd almost forgotten he wanted to tell me about the gods. Curious as I was, I'd gone through this song and dance with him briefly once before and knew I'd have to go about it carefully.

"What do you know of the world?" he asked as I sat down as well.

"Err..." Did these people know the world was round yet? "I know why the winds blow, why the tides of the sea rise and fall. I know why the sun and the moon come out, and where they go when we can't see them." He gave me a curious look.

"Then you know more than I thought... And what of how the world was created?"

"Well... First, there was nothing. No stars, no air, no world, not even gods." Floki nodded, which I took as a good sign. "Then there was a big bang, starting out smaller than we could see with our eyes." His eyes started to narrow. "Planets and stars were formed from rocks and ice banging together, and eventually our world became inhabited. The center of the earth is so hot it melts rocks, and -"

"No."

"What?"

"That's not what happened. You think you know, but you don't. Every Viking knows the world is built from the remains of Ymir. He was slaughtered -"

"Who was he?"

"The first giant."

"Then where did he come from?"

"He was born from the salty ice." This only confused me even more.

"Ice gave birth to a giant."

"Of course not! The cow Audhumla licked him out of the ice, and Ymir fed on her milk."

"So the first life was a cow?"

"You make no sense."

"I just don't understand. If the world is made from Ymir's remains, then where did the cow come from?"

"From the ice." I opened my mouth, then closed it as I saw Floki was starting to get annoyed. "Anyway, we were talking of the world, not of the universe. Ymir had many descendants, and one of them was the giantess Bestla. She married Bor, and they had three sons." He waited for me to say something, but I was a bit hesitant to say anything at all at this point.

"What were the sons named?" I asked.

"Odin, Vili, and Ve."

"Would that be the same Odin who is the Allfather?" Floki nodded his head in approval.

"But Odin is Æsir. How can he suddenly become Æsir when he was the son of two giants?"

"He was Áss, they were Æsir. Bor was not a giant."

"Then what -" I bit my tongue as I saw Floki narrow his eyes again, his nostrils slightly flaring. "What do they have to do with Ymir?" Floki crossed his arms and sat up straight, lengthening his spine even more.

"They killed Ymir. Who is neither male nor female, before you ask. From his blood and sweat flowed the seas and the rivers, from his bones the mountains were made. The soil we sit on was once the flesh on his bones."

"So we're sitting on a corpse."

"No."

"But there's a dead giant that forms pretty much all around us."

"Yes."

"Then we're sitting on a corpse right now." He sniffed loudly, almost making it sound like a growl.

"Do you even want to understand?"

"Am I not asking questions, trying to understand?"

"You cannot understand if you do not believe."

"Maybe I need to understand before I can believe."

"Such a thing is not possible."

"Athelstan needed to understand before he..." Floki had a vein in his neck that looked ready to burst. "Started to see their might."

"It is not for us to understand why the gods do things their way," he spat. "It is for us to believe in them and honor them. Why must you torment me?" I scowled at him.

"Are you not my teacher? Do you not want me to know about the gods?" Exasperated, he threw his hands in the air, signaling his despair. He muttered a few choice words under his breath. I sighed, not willing to give up just yet. Straightening my back, calming myself, I decided to change the subject. Perhaps asking him about something I knew about a little would calm him down.

"Please, tell me of Yggdrasil," I encouraged him. Huffing a bit, he snarled at me. He rattled off the nine realms, leaving my mind reeling. The names all sounded similar, with all the heims and gards. Shaking my head, I told him to repeat them slowly. I wrote the names in the dirt as best I could, not knowing if I made any mistakes.

"What is that? Did the priest teach you those weird scribbles? They make no sense. You make no sense." He flicked a finger at my forehead, sparking a fire within me. I got up, looking down at him for a change. He seemed surprised I even had moved.

"It is you who makes no sense," I spat back. "You talk and talk and talk, as if I can learn everything in one day. This is hard for me. I did not grow up here, I did not learn the same things you did. I was taught about different gods."

"Then you were taught wrong," he retorted, "the priest must have made you dumb."

"You hate Athelstan for believing in a different god? You know nothing. You can't hate everyone that believes differently. There are countless beliefs, countless gods. In every corner of the world, the people believe theirs is the one true religion. It is you who makes no sense to me. It is you that knows nothing of the gods." The anger I felt inside was burning just as hot behind Floki's eyes.

"You forget your place, slave girl." He snapped his teeth at me in an attempt to intimidate me. I fought back the urge to smack him in the face. He was right. I was still just a slave. Despite spending a lot of time with me recently, he could have his way with me if he wanted. I was at his mercy, had been so since I first met him. I had foolishly allowed myself to see him as a friend. Nothing would come of antagonizing him further. Gritting my teeth, I walked away. Tears started to fill my eyes. He called after me, but I ignored him.

"Ragnhild!" His shouts became more intense, calling for me to stop. Nothing he could say to me would make me turn around. He would not see my tears. What little pride I had, he would not take it away. It wasn't until he yanked my arm that I saw the reason he was shouting at me like that. A large wolf was closing in on us.

His grey fur stood up at its neck, his teeth bared. A low growl came from his throat. Everything seemed to indicate he was ready to attack. Floki turned my body away, positioning himself between me and the wolf. A second wolf, looking just as menacing, came forth from the nearby bushes. I had heard talk of predators in the forest but never before had I seen one up close. Not without a sturdy fence between us in a zoo. I was convinced the warnings not to wander in the woods alone were a joke, something made up so the children wouldn't run off on their own.

"Floki," I breathed, trying to convince myself this was just a bad dream. He grunted in response, hunching his head down. A third wolf joined the others, and I couldn't bear to watch. Floki seemed invigorated, I hardly recognized him. Everything about his stance told me he was planning to fight the wild animals. I desperately wanted to clutch him with my arms, not wanting him to leave my side. The twin axes in his hands seemed small and insignificant next to the three sets of yellow, glistening teeth. I couldn't for the life of me imagine him winning against the feral beasts.

"Don't run. Don't scream. Don't do anything," Floki said so softly I hardly heard him. The biggest wolf lunged at us. Before I could utter a scream, Floki ran towards it, swinging his axes at its head. The wolf yelped and fell to the ground as one of Floki's axes almost decapitated the great beast. The sight of blood on his axe only made Floki more intense. Bloodlust was seeping out of his pores. How had I ever thought to antagonize such a man?

The two remaining wolves inched closer, not at all fazed their pack member was dead now. They lunged at him together, two sets of teeth flashing before my eyes. Floki hardly grunted as one of the wolves had opted to use its teeth, and bit into his arm. The other wolf yelped out and backed off a bit, a new bloody gash across one of its paws showing.

This allowed Floki to break free from the wolf yanking at his arm. Raising his bitten arm a bit, he swung an axe down and a sickening crunch came from the animal. Deep in its skull was now an axe. The wolf went limp, finally letting go of my protector's arm. I wanted to approach him, assess the bleeding wound. Floki just seemed to ignore the bite, focusing on the remaining wolf that lunged for his throat. He sidestepped, and a final swing of his axe finished it off as it tried to jump at him again. Only now Floki lowered his guard, moving to inspect the limp bodies.

"Hungry little beasts... They must have smelled blood." Turning to face me, his eyes held a question. Still in shock from the attack, his words had gone through me like a sliver of ice. I had begun to bleed last night and had relieved myself not very far from where we were standing. The same direction the wolves had come from. But wild animals didn't tend to go after that kind of blood. Sensing my inner turmoil, Floki sneered at me and grabbed hold of my arm.

Keeping one axe in hand, the other dripping with blood and brains from his belt, he roughly dragged me back to the village. I thought it best to keep quiet, letting him drag me back. When I stumbled, he pulled me up without slowing down, without looking to see how I was doing. His face changed expressions often, all kinds of sounds coming out. He dropped me off at the hall and left, not speaking a word.

"What happened?" Siggy asked as she saw me slump down on a bench.

"We got into a fight, and then all of a sudden three wolves came upon us."

"You started bleeding?"

"That has nothing to do with it," I said as I rubbed my shoulder where Floki had nearly pulled my arm off.

"It had everything to do with it," Siggy hissed. Her anger only made me feel worse. I was so certain wolves wouldn't care about period blood... It was more mucus than blood, to begin with. "I can't believe you were so irresponsible!" She laid it on thick, making me feel guilty and stupid and way younger than I actually was. Still, I knew it was because she cared. It made me feel better, if only a little. She cared.


	23. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27-04-800

I wasn't sure if Floki would want me coming back to work with him as I still bled, afraid of going into the woods by myself now. Siggy had given me a great scolding and had forbidden me to go very far from the great hall. It felt like I was grounded. She always found new things for me to do, even if they were not that necessary to do. I scrubbed the tables, the benches, the walls, inside and out. At least Milly and Tris seemed to enjoy me no longer being the favorite.

I was just finishing up the second round that week when I saw Rollo approaching the hall with great haste. A bell was chiming, people started screaming. I followed him inside, under the premise of hearing from Siggy what I would do next. I faintly noticed there were boats near the beach, but the sails seemed unfamiliar. The screaming got louder, only drowned out by the cries of Hvitserk and Sigurd as Rollo started dishing out orders in a commanding tone I hadn't heard him use before.

Aslaug wasted not a second, shoving Hvitserk in my arms, taking Sigurd herself. I still didn't quite understand what was going on, but I could read the room well enough to know we were in danger from whoever had come to Kattegat. We needed to get out if we wanted to survive the day.

"Guard him with your life," Aslaug said before giving out orders as well. Siggy grabbed whatever she could find and carry, shoving it all into whatever was at hand. I hurriedly grabbed my satchel, taking one of the knives into my hand. Taking Ubbe's hand in hers, Aslaug commanded me to follow her. Siggy and Rollo were left to divide the supplies they had put together. The boys were most important to get out of town, them being princes and all.

Rollo led us out of the village, where screams of pain and death rose up from behind us. He kept a grueling pace, but I managed to keep up. Siggy led a horse by the reins, which was loaded with most of the things she had packed. Soon, the noises of the village were gone.

We kept up the pace, though. When Ubbe couldn't keep up, Rollo sheathed his sword and took the boy in his own arms. He threw me an irritated look as he saw me struggling to keep Hvitserk under control.

"Keep your fears to yourself, slave," Rollo sneered at me as I tried to sing Hvitserk a song to calm him down.

"I don't want to come!" he whined, struggling to get free from my grasp.

"Hvitserk! Stop that, or you'll walk the rest of the way." I wasn't happy with how Rollo did it, but I felt relieved as Hvitserk stopped moving. He put his head to my chest, resigning to what was happening. It made keeping up with the others a lot easier.

Just this morning I'd been cleaning the hall, and now we were on the run from whoever it was that had come. Kattegat had become my home, and now I was driven out with those I loved.

We had walked well into nightfall before we halted and made camp. We shared the little food we managed to bring. Everyone was quickly asleep, lying close together for warmth. No matter how I tried, my thoughts kept me awake. I had finally started thinking of Kattegat as my home, and now we were on the run from this Jarl Borg. Any form of safety I had felt was now stripped away. That alone was enough reason for me to hate the man I had never met or seen.

The next morning, we had little left to eat. Rollo made sure we erased the tracks of our campsite before we moved on, in the same grueling pace as the day before. I was glad for the hard work I had done with Floki, strengthening my body. This would not be a repeat of my voyage to Kattegat. I was now one of the strong men and women, able to march on. Aslaug had more trouble keeping up than me.

"Can't we just go somewhere... nice and inviting?" she asked Rollo.

"And how long do you think it will take for someone to bring word to Jarl Borg? We will go on."

"But my children..."

"Are better off alive than dead." That was the end of the discussion as far as Rollo was concerned. Aslaug turned to Siggy, hoping to get more purchase from her.

"We can't go on like this for long," she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

"We will survive this," Siggy said with a brash confidence. "Believe me, you and I can survive this. It will make you stronger. It will make your sons stronger, also." We kept walking and walking, growing more tired and hungry with every step we took.

It was almost sundown when we came upon a farmhouse, and Rollo went ahead to ask if we could stay there for a while. The farmer was a nice enough man, happy to be able to help. Seeing his meager rations, though, I worried. I had no idea how long we would stay. I had no idea how we were to get out of this mess.

I put down Hvitserk and stayed with him until he and Ubbe had eaten something and slept. It had been a long and tiring day for all of us. Aslaug was more concerned with her own comfort, trying to make a suitable place for herself to sleep. Rollo had gone hunting and came back with some rabbits for our own dinner. Siggy and I skinned them as Rollo built a fire to set up some cooking equipment. We all did our part, silent and thankful for the shelter offered to us for at least the coming night.

After eating ourselves, Rollo tried to find some things lying around that could be used for weapons. So far, we only had the sword and axe he had brought. I didn't want to disturb him, but I wanted to contribute what I could.

"Rollo," I spoke with a soft voice. He looked up at me, with a look telling me he was certain I was interrupting him. "Will these help?" I asked as I pulled my prized knives from my bag.

"Did you waste time saving these?" He took hold of the larger of the two, studying the make as Ragnar had when I first met him.

"I always keep them close. I wanted to be able to defend myself and Hvitserk."

"Do you even know how to fight?"

"Does that matter at a time like this?" Rollo tested the edge of the blade on his thumb, immediately cutting deep. A drop of blood welled up after a second.

"Not when the edge is as sharp as this. Where did you get these?"

"They're from back home. They came with me."

"You must come from a wondrous place indeed."

"Not as wondrous as everyone seems to think."

"Thank you, Ragnhild. I'm sure these will come in handy." He sheathed both blades in his belt. I thought of asking him if I would get them back once this was all over, but now wasn't the time to be protective over my stuff. Rollo was enough like his brother to make me feel uneasy around him, and it seemed like he finally thought of me as more than just a slave. Instead of trying to antagonize him, I tried to find a soft spot on the floor and went to sleep with a threadbare cloak around me.


	24. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-06-800

We all tried to make the best of our current predicament, in our own way. Rollo was hoping he could find reinforcements, but after two weeks of trying, it was still too small a force to be a threat. Siggy and I tried to make the farmhouse a little more livable, and always found things to keep ourselves busy with. Drawing water from the river a little walk off, helping the farmer tend to his livestock, going out to try and find wild vegetables... The work never ended, and I was glad for it. Even the boys seemed to acclimate to their new surroundings as they kept on finding things for them to do and thought of new games to play. The only one who didn't seem to fit in was Aslaug. She kept muttering how this was not a suited place to stay.

"Everything is so dirty here," she whined. I had done my best to clean everything up a bit, but the nearest source of water was too far away to warrant many trips there, if there was other important work to be done than cleaning everything up to her standards. As far as I was concerned, Siggy was my mistress for the time being, and she was grateful for it.

"We are safe here," Siggy said, comforting Sigurd as he fussed. "And your children are safe, as well. We have a roof over our head, a fire, and food."

"Safe? They will all die of some disease. Just look at the boys, Siggy. Look at them. They already look so thin, and pale. I can't stay here."

"We have to stay here," Siggy bit back. "I know this is not what you're used to, but you will get used to it. Many of our people live like this. Life is not a walk across an open field." Aslaug took over Sigurd, who was making his hungry cries.

"Say what you want, Siggy. We won't stay here." I kept quiet and tried to keep the boys entertained, hoping to at least ease the tension if they weren't running around chasing chickens again. The truth was I felt just as uncomfortable as Aslaug, but I managed to hide it better. I had finally found a place to call home, and though it had its difficulties, there was plenty I liked. The thought of having to start over again, under a new earl, having to beg for my life... Even if Jarl Borg would allow me to stay alive, it would not even come close to how I had lived in Kattegat. I would be no more than Tris and Milly to him. If anything, those bitches would rat me out for having had Ragnar's trust.

There were only two options for me. I could run away and find a new settlement to try and build a life, or I could stick with the people I knew. And looking down at Hvitserk, his eyes digging into mine to find an answer to all his questions, I knew running away wasn't an option. I'd rather die myself than let anything happen to him or his brothers.

"Don't worry, little man. We will get out of this," I told him.

"How do you know that?" He didn't seem very comforted by my words.

"Because I'd never let anyone hurt you." I had no idea if I could make him such a promise, but my words seemed to calm him down a bit. I kissed him on his brow and left to find my own spot on the floor.

"That's a bold claim," Aslaug whispered as I walked past her. "Do you plan on keeping your promise?"

"All we have left now is hope. And I have plenty of it to go around. I refuse to die in this pigsty."

"You want to get out of here just as bad as me," she mused.

"I do. I want to go back home."

"Why not run off? I know what troubles you. You have even fewer options than the rest of us."

"I prefer a nice clean death over getting mauled by wolves."

"How innocent you still are... To think death will be all they have waiting for you." After all of her whining and bitching about how bad she had it, I lost my patience with her.

"How innocent you are, Aslaug, to think I would ever let them touch me." With Ulf's touches still fresh on my mind, I knew what I'd do when another man tried to take advantage of me or my position. I walked on to the place by the fire where I slept. Laying down and trying to sleep was one of the few things there was to do. I felt an anger unlike any I had ever felt before growing inside of me ever since Jarl Borg had driven us away. It was getting hard to keep it in with so little room and constantly the same people around.

I heard Aslaug get up and go outside. I shouldn't have sneered at her like I did. She was still my mistress, and I was to obey her. Although it had been more coincidence than anything else that I had been the one to come with her and the boys, I was obviously the one most expendable of our group.

"Are you still awake?" I turned around and saw Hvitserk had crawled out of bed.

"Yes. Is something wrong?" I sat up, but Hvitserk didn't respond. He pulled up my cloak and crawled underneath, trying to find comfort in my embrace.

"Will you tell me a story?" he asked.

"What kind of story do you want to hear?"

"A new one."

"Oh, okay... I'm sure I've got plenty you haven't heard before. Let's see..." I saw Ubbe coming near as well, dragging his sleeping furs with him.

"Can I listen, too?"

"Of course, you can. I've got a great story for you." Ubbe put down his sleeping furs and snuggled up to me as well, prompting Hvitserk to drag his furs over, as well. Meanwhile, I thought out the story, knowing a funny one would make it easier for them to fall asleep.

"I'm ready," Hvitserk said as he put his furs over my cloak a bit as well. I was grateful for the added warmth and comfort.

"Alright. So, you know how there are a lot of countries out there, far away from us? Well, this story is from one of those lands. There was a king who absolutely loved clothes. He couldn't get enough and spent a lot of money on shoes, and shirts, and robes, even a few dresses."

"Dresses? Why would a king wear dresses?"

"They must be for his queen," Ubbe said pensively.

"No, they were for the king. He put them on and then demanded everyone around him would say how great he looked, and that he could put on anything and still look better than everyone else in the world. He was very vain, you see, and completely horrible. No one really liked him, but because he was the king, everyone had to listen to him and do what he said. You couldn't challenge him to combat for his crown, they weren't Viking."

"That's so stupid. If you don't agree with the king, you just challenge him. That's more honest than lying to him."

"Yeah, that's how father became the earl."

"Did he?"

"Yes, he killed Earl Haraldson. Bjorn told me about it, he was there." Right, the son Ragnar had by his previous wife. Their half-brother.

"Siggy used to be married to Earl Haraldson," Hvitserk whispered. "But then she got together with Rollo, and she could stay."

"What are you whispering about?" Siggy asked from across the room.

"I'm just telling the boys a story," I lied. "About a king who loves clothes."

"Really..." She didn't believe a word I said.

"Yeah, the king loves clothes so much, he had tons of people in his city to make new clothes for him, all the time. One of them was the very best, truly outstanding. He didn't very much like the king, so he hadn't made him anything yet. He preferred to make whatever he wanted and didn't like being told what he had to make. So, the king summoned him to his castle one day, and demanded to know why the tailor had never offered his services." I saw Siggy was losing interest again, making me feel a lot more comfortable.

"Then what did the tailor do?"

"Oh, he was very smart and very shrewd. He couldn't refuse such a direct question from the king, so he told the truth. The tailor said he had not yet made a garment fit for a king and didn't want to insult him by showing whatever he had in his store. After all, he didn't make the fancy, strange clothes the king liked."

"Why was that smart?" Ubbe asked.

"Because it made the king curious. The tailor made it sound like he was working on a secret project and had been at it for years. He instructed the tailor to show him what he had come up within a week's time and that the tailor could use whatever means necessary, and the king would pay for it."

"That's lying," Hvitserk pouted.

"That's saying just enough of the truth to make other one believe what you want him to believe. The tailor just said he hadn't finished anything fit for a king, and the king was so vain he thought it meant the tailor was working on something. And during that week, the tailor worked all day and all night, seven days long, using all kinds of strange and expensive fabrics, ordering jewels and silver and gold to complete the garment... At least, that's what the king was thinking."

"What was he doing?" Ubbe asked.

"He was finishing all the orders he had received from his loyal customers, who didn't make outrageous demands and respected the man for his honest work. Meanwhile, the king was getting so giddy in anticipation, he decided to throw a parade in honor of his new garments, even though he hadn't even seen them yet. With all the stuff the tailor had been ordering, it had to be magnificent, right?" Hvitserk and Ubbe knew when the clue to my stories was coming, and they grew as giddy as the king in my tale.

"What happened when the king saw the clothes?"

"Oh, he was amazed! The tailor told him how special the fabric was. You see, only a man who was worthy of his station could see them. They were magical, the tailor said, and were surely the greatest clothes ever. He pointed out the gems and the silver and gold on the sleeves, and he let the king run his fingers over the soft cape that came with it. The king was, of course, awestruck and asked the tailor to help him get dressed. The tailor was very glad to oblige, and helped the king get dressed."

"I don't get it," Hvitserk said.

"Oh, you will. Because when the king came out of his dressing room, clothed in the magical pants, and shirt, and cape, he was smiling his ass off. The tailor told the court of how the clothes could only be seen by those worthy of seeing them, and of course, everyone agreed with the king that these were the finest clothes ever. They didn't want to admit they were not worthy of their ranks. Full of confidence the king strutted out of the palace, walking around as if he were a peacock. From all over the city people came to watch him in his parade, and the heralds followed after him to tell the crowd how soft the pants were, and how nicely the gold and silver shone in the sunlight. The people didn't know how to respond, until a child, every bit as smart as the two of you suddenly called out. And as you very well know, children always speak the truth. 'But he's naked!' the child shouted. Suddenly everyone started laughing, and the king flushed with embarrassment. He ran back inside the palace, ashamed of having been seen naked in front of his entire city."

"That's not a good story," Ubbe complained. "I thought it would be funny."

"Yeah, me too." I was a bit disappointed by the reception, but this was after all a different time. I had to improvise on a lot of details as the story progressed since I had forgotten half of it, so it could very well be I had somehow messed it up.

"You don't always get what you want. There's still a lot you can learn from the story if you know how to listen."

"Like not to believe in magical clothes you can't see?"

"Like how you can't trust people who always try to please you, and that you have to think for yourself. And how you can't force people to make something for you if they don't want to, and what can happen when you don't ask the right questions."

Rollo spoke up from the other side of the room, surprising me. He'd never shown an interest in my stories before.

"I think it's about having to surround yourself with people you can trust. As a king, or an earl, you have very many responsibilities, and you need people to help you out. That king only cared about his clothes, so the people around him pretended to like his clothes. And the tailor used that to his advantage." Was there some connection to ours, or Rollo's situation I wasn't seeing?

"Like how father trusts mother to take care of Kattegat when he's away?" Hvitserk asked.

"Indeed. Floki builds his boats, Aslaug rules in his absence, and I will take back our home."

"But father doesn't trust you," Ubbe said, leaning on his elbow to see Rollo.

"Am I not doing what I can to keep you safe? Aren't I busy searching for warriors to fight?" Now I got it. Rollo was hoping to point out how he was trustworthy and was jumping onto something the boys trusted to drive the message in with them. He knew how much Ragnar loved his sons and listened to their stories. And the boys listened to me.

"You won't have to search for much longer, Rollo," Aslaug said as he came in. "Ragnar will come for us. He'll be here soon." I was hard-pressed to believe her, but it seemed to lift everyone's spirits all the same. At the least, I was glad to see some of the tension go.


	25. Rescued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-06-800

On the third day after Aslaug's premonition, I heard noises coming from outside. Not knowing what to make of it, I just kept myself busy. My being outside wouldn't change anything. Trying not to let my mind wander to the possibility of being killed shortly, I tried to bathe Sigurd. We might as well die clean.

Then, Ragnar entered. Ubbe and Hvitserk ran up to him, and I could see tears of joy in his eyes. He must have been worried sick about his family, not knowing if they were alive or dead. The man seemed nothing like the menacing earl that only had to look at me to make me feel uneasy.

I felt the need to fetch something to drink, but other than water we had nothing. As the family reunited, I saw how much they loved each other. Even though Aslaug had planned to run off with her sons just a few days ago, she now radiated confidence and calm. Instead, I dressed Sigurd after half his bath.

When Floki came in, rain dripping down on the floor as he brushed a hand through his hair, I wanted to run up to him and hug him. I needed some comfort as well, and he was the one that knew me best. Still, we hadn't seen each other since the incident with the wolves. As soon as he caught sight of me he ignored the part of the room I was in. It hurt knowing that even in such a situation he wouldn't even piss on me if I was on fire.

Without the boys or any chores to do, I felt completely useless. Those two things were all I had in life. No matter how much I tried to hold on to the thought I had enough to live for when reality came to call, I had to admit my life as a slave was less than satisfying. There was enough in my life to feel happy about, but to call myself happy... It wasn't just the lack of freedom or stuff to do. I yearned to have friends, real friends. I wanted to learn new things, like learning how to build a boat from scratch, or weave, or use tools I didn't even know existed before I came here. I wanted to have a life.

Siggy was on top of things as always, and as the initial cheer had turned down a notch, she put me to work to bake more bread for dinner. I was happy to have something to do, even more so because the boys were in the same room. Ragnar had brought back a sizeable force from his raiding party. We still didn't have enough warriors to make a fight worthwhile, and with the extra men would come extra tension. The leering stares I already got made feel uncomfortable. In the small farmhouse, there was barely any place to stay out of sight.

From what I'd managed to gather, the men had rowed as if possessed to get back to Norway on time after someone had brought word. Then they'd traveled here from Floki's, meaning they barely had any rest or privacy for over a week. And I was the only woman around who could be forced without dire consequences for the men.

Only outside could I escape the stares. The farmer had some goats for milk, and their playful jumping and bleating made me miss the goats back in Kattegat just a little less. The thought of Jarl Borg slaughtering Happy was enough to bring me to angry tears. I'd never seen the man, but I vehemently wished he would die.

"See? I told you she'd be here." I got up as I heard Ubbe's voice, wiping away my tears before they fell. He and Hvitserk walked towards the fence.

"What are you doing outside? It's chilly out here." They hadn't even bothered putting on some warm clothes.

"We could say the same to you." Aside from my now smelly cloak, I didn't even have any warm clothes, to begin with.

"I don't like crowded rooms." Especially with so many men just back from a raid, and me being the only slave present.

"Father wants to speak to you. He sent us out to find you." This couldn't end well for me.

"Do you know what he wants to talk about?"

"No, he wouldn't tell us. It's a grown-ups thing." Sighing, I left the pen and followed the boys inside. Ragnar was sitting huddled with Rollo and Floki, eyeing me warily as I approached. Sitting between them, Ragnar opposite of me, I felt even more uncomfortable than I did under the staring men.

On the floor between us laid my knives, catching the barest hint of the light of the fire behind me.

"What is that?" Ragnar asked.

"It's not iron," I said, not seeing any use lying. This conversation would either be very short or end up with me having to lie about where I came from. I had no intention of divulging that information, too afraid I'd be branded a witch and burned at the stake or something similar. The only saving grace I had was that Viking did not seem familiar with the concept of time travel and would be hard-pressed to come up with it in relation to me. The only one who had the barest hint was Athelstan, and he had remained behind in England to help translate for the men still there.

"We figured that much. What is it?"

"You don't have a word for it. I don't know how I can explain." Stainless steel wouldn't be invented for quite some time, I imagined. I vaguely remembered a documentary on how it's made from a lifetime ago.

"But you know it's better than iron." I kept my eyes fixed on the knives, not daring to see what mood Ragnar was in. He was using his earl's voice, not the friendly fatherly tone that he used when his children were around.

"At least ten times. It holds a better edge, it is lighter and still stronger."

"And yet, you gave them to Rollo."

"I can do little to help. This is the only way I know how to." My own survival rate was very much dependent on taking back Kattegat, and by fleeing with Aslaug, I'd thrown in my lot with the rest of them.

"I want to forge them into an axe, when we're back," Ragnar informed me.

"You can't."

"I'm your master. I can take them if I want to." I hadn't even thought of that, or why he had allowed me to keep them. It must have been part of his ploy to earn my loyalty.

"I meant to say you can't reforge them. You'll only blacken them and render them useless. You don't have the equipment. The fire will never burn hot enough."

"You have no skill forging," Floki said disdainfully.

"And yet, I know." I didn't pretend to be glad about it.

"How do you know?"

"Athelstan grew tired of asking that question a while back. And I'll say the same to you as I did to him. I can't tell you." Ragnar picked up the largest knife and held it to my throat. I didn't react, not even in the slightest. Chances were I'd not make it out alive unless a miracle happened. Having it done quickly would be a kindness.

"Tell me," Ragnar commanded again.

"If I tell you, I'll die. If I don't tell you, you'll kill me. You'll know when the blind man sees you. And when you do..." I wasn't sure how he'd react to such vague promises of the future.

"It won't be pretty," he deduced.

"So to say. I asked the Seer when you would know my secret."

"You fear me finding out, yet you do little to ease my curiosity. Do you want to die?"

"Do you want to kill me? In front of your sons? I imagine they must be looking at us very intently about now." Ragnar's eyes left mine, for just the barest hint of a second. He lowered the blade. I scoffed at that. Ragnar might like playing the creepy villain, but his sons were a large part of his weakness.

"You seem awfully self-assured of their love for you. One might say it makes you callous."

"It's not knowing your sons as I do that makes me feel safe." Ragnar had left in the middle of a raid to come back and save his family. Of course he'd never take away someone his sons cared about like that. He only seemed to get more frustrated by my words.

"Is this like your story? Are we not asking the right questions?" I wondered what Rollo had thought to read into the tale. To me, it was just a failed attempt to make the boys laugh for a bit through the tension.

"Do you think I'm trying to make off with untold riches?" Ragnar and Floki didn't know what we were talking about, and it did little to relieve the tension.

"I think you're telling us things in such a wondrous way we are likely to assume what you want us to assume." From the corner of my eye, I saw Ragnar's eyes go wide in an appraising way as if to take in all there was to me.

"Ragnar!" Siggy shouted all of a sudden. "Ragnar, there are riders approaching!" The conversation was over, easy as that. Rollo had the sense to take the knives with him, but I was left alone. I couldn't believe what I'd just told them. Where did I grow that humongous set of balls? I sighed deeply, closing my eyes. Why did I seem to have a tendency for creating trouble for myself like this? Just as Aslaug had finally come to accept me... This anger growing inside of me was dangerous. I had to find a way to get it under control if I was to survive.

I turned around and saw Hvitserk trying to go after his father. My heart sank as I thought of the battle that was about to ensue. He even made it out the door before I could grab the back of his shirt.

"Hvitserk, no! Get back here!" I picked him up, but he was having none of it.

"But father was mean to you! I saw it!"

"That's none of your business. I was just as mean to him. Stop wriggling, it's not safe here!" As I glanced around, I saw Ragnar running up to meet the riders. He wouldn't do that if they posed a threat. Still, I didn't feel at ease. I wanted to go back inside just in case. Whatever was happening here, a small child had no place being here.

"Hvitserk, what are -" He almost fell to the ground as he writhed away from my grasp. "Hvitserk!" I put him down on his feet and grabbed hold of his face. "You may not like it, but you will listen to me. I have a duty to protect you, and you're making that very difficult right now. Do you understand?" He finally stopped fighting me, but I was far from relieved. His pitiful whining tore right through my soul. Not now, not in front of Floki and Rollo. Could this day get any worse?

Since Hvitserk hadn't run off, I wrapped my arms around him. He let me.

"Oh, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't have done that." I felt his tears dampening my dress. "It's alright, I'm not mad at you." He calmed down a bit, his whines turning into sobs.

"You were mean!" Hvitserk said, close to a temper tantrum now.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I was scared you'd get hurt, and I took it out on you. That's a very bad thing to do. Can you forgive me?" With his anger ebbing away, a heavy pout still on his face, he nodded his head. "I want to go see the horses!" he demanded. I noticed the riders were approaching at a leisurely pace, definitely not enemies. Ragnar was walking next to Lagertha. I almost hadn't recognized her without a dress on and her hair braided the way it was. She looked every bit the fierce shield maiden I had heard so many stories about.

"I know you do, but they aren't our horses. We'll have to ask Lagertha if we can go pet them." Hvitserk slung his arms around my neck, wanting to be picked up. As I got to my feet, Rollo and Floki were saying hello to Lagertha and the boy next to her. I approached as well but didn't quite dare interrupt anything. Ragnar proudly introduced his son to his former wife, but Hvitserk didn't want to meet new people.

"Ragnhild said I could pet the horses!" he whined.

"No, I said we should ask Lagertha if we could. You can't just go around doing whatever you like. Don't you remember how mad Ubbe was when you took his axe without him knowing? If you go around taking things that aren't yours, you'll get into trouble." As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I'd just told Ragnar's son it wasn't okay to go raiding. Lagertha either didn't realize what I'd said or had perfected her poker face.

"It's okay, you can pet her," she said with a kind smile.

"Does she have a name?" Hvitserk asked. No poker face was able to hide the bewilderment she felt at that question. I just pretended to stare at a bird flying overhead. My influence on the boys had never been this obvious.

"Gott, wirft Hirne," I said under my breath as I walked over to the brilliant white mare Lagertha had ridden.

"What do brains have to do with it?" My eyes went wide at that. Holy shit. I hadn't meant for anyone to hear me, let alone understand me. I vaguely recognized the boy who had spoken, but I couldn't put my finger on it. He didn't let it go and made to stand beside me as I let Hvitserk stroke the horse's head.

"I'm having a bad day. That's all."

"You're the one taking care of my brothers?" Oh, great. Just fucking perfect. Of course, it wasn't bad enough that I had made a fool of myself in front of Ragnar and Lagertha, now their son had known as well. The boy must have been Bjorn. I hadn't recognized him with his armor on.

"Lately they seem to be taking care of me, as well."

"How so?"

"This one here was about to tell off Ragnar for being mean to me when you were sighted. And Ubbe went against Aslaug over something she had every right to do. They don't seem to see me as a slave."

"Well, you aren't," Hvitserk said, proving my point further. I threw Bjorn a knowing look.

"I am, sweetheart. Just because you like me doesn't make me any less of one."

"But slaves can't be friends. And you are."

"That's just because you and your brother are very special."

"Father thinks you're special, too. And so do me and Ubbe." I couldn't believe the crap that came out of Hvitserk's mouth, in front of Bjorn no less. I shot him an apologetic glance, but he seemed to enjoy the back and forth between me and his little brother. Despite his crossed arms, he wore a lazy smile. "Why did he hold that knife to your throat?" Hvitserk was learning to ask the right questions as if he was aiming to embarrass me even further.

"Because he wanted to know something, and I couldn't tell him."

"Did you lie to him? You said you never lie."

"I didn't lie, I just... couldn't tell your father the truth. Even if I wanted to."

"You went against him?" Bjorn asked, surprise thick in his voice.

"Well, I didn't exactly go against him... It's really complicated." I wanted to steer clear from talking about how stupid I'd been all day, and fast.

"She does that all the time," Hvitserk said as he turned to face Bjorn. "Remember when Ubbe got sick?" Judging by his scoff, Bjorn had heard the stories. I had seen him the next day in the goat pen, he could've seen it all for all I knew. Either way, the sooner Bjorn left me alone, the better. I really didn't need any more men taking a sudden interest in me, no matter what he might think to do.

"Hvitserk, what do you think the horse's name is?"

"I think she's a Snow White, like in the story you told me last night."

"You know what? I think so, too. She's really pretty, isn't she?" Bjorn sighed and took his leave, heading inside the farmhouse. No doubt he realized I wouldn't want to answer any of his questions, and definitely not those about the German I muttered, and somehow had some words in common with whatever other languages he spoke. I felt like I could breathe a little easier now. He had tried to talk to me before, and I didn't like his kind of attention. If only I could keep Hvitserk or Ubbe around until the men left... That would give me a little time to breathe and think about how I could prevent getting raped in the future. No one would dare drag me away from the boys, not when I clearly felt uneasy. Ubbe had already saved me once, and I had to scoff as I realized I was thinking of using two small boys as a shield to keep me safe. These Viking might have started to rub off on me if I was willing to go that far.


	26. Intimate Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20-06-800

It was decided the warriors would go back to Kattegat to try and claim it back. Even though Aslaug, Siggy, and the children would remain in the farmhouse until everything was safe, Ragnar had commanded me to come with, though I didn't know why. My mind raced past so many reasons, I soon lost track of it. All I knew for sure was that I wasn't able to defend myself should anyone tried to force himself on me.

My confrontation with Ulf had put my mind on high alert, and now with a few of the raiders back... It was tiring to have to look out for myself all the time. And with no shadows or corners to hide in out here, I knew it was only a matter of time before someone would try and take me. I'd been on edge ever since Helga had helped remove my IUD, but with so many men around all the time, I felt the tension eating at me.

As long as we were on the move, I was safe. The pace was more comfortable now, and there was plenty of food to go around. It was all bread, hard cheese, and sausage, which meant I didn't have to cook for anyone. Without Hvitserk in my arms, I had time to focus my attention on my surroundings. The forest was quite beautiful, in the height of summer. All the flowers were in bloom, bees were flying around aplenty, and every now and then I caught sight of a dragonfly.

Ragnar led the way, followed by Rollo, Lagertha, and Bjorn. I wasn't sure where I should be walking, still being a slave and all. I decided walking with Floki and Helga was the best option. Floki still ignored me. Instead of trying to mend fences, I spent my time talking to Helga, who would go back to their house by the lake midway through. She had led an interesting life, traveling places until she met Floki and moved in with him.

She spoke to me as if we were equals, and I silently thanked her for it. I told her some of the funny stories of when I just came to Kattegat, finally able to laugh a bit about how confused and afraid I was back then.

"And I swear, I was sure Torstein was going to throw me into the water. But it turned out I was only standing in front of his fishing spear!" Helga laughed a bright, vibrant laugh. Floki seemed to have trouble containing a giggle, avoiding eye contact.

Before I knew it, I started to recognize parts of the forest. The group grew quiet, not wanting to reveal their presence. Ragnar left us behind, taking only a few men and went on his way to scout ahead, I presumed. Helga also took her leave, hoping to reach home before the sun fully set. Some part of me wanted to go with her, as Lagertha was now the only woman left I knew. She intimidated the shit out of me, so I tried to keep a fair distance.

Floki and Rollo were among the men left behind and seemed to keep a close eye on me. I chose to hide amongst the trees, but one of the two always kept me in their line of sight. Unsure if this was to protect me or to intimidate me, I just tried to ignore them. I flipped through my diary to pass the time, as I had no idea how long it would take for them to come back, or what I was supposed to do. No doubt someone would be happy to tell me if I did something wrong.

Only when Rollo kept coming closer and started to clear his throat did I put down my diary.

"How might I serve you?" For now, complete subservience seemed like the best option. I had angered Ragnar more than enough already, not to mention Rollo and Floki.

"I have questions," he said as he came to stand in front of me, crossing his arms and knitting his brows.

"If you want to ask them, I will answer them to the best of my abilities." Rollo took one of the knives out of its sheath. I half expected him to put it to my throat again, but he didn't.

"Why would you have such a blade in your possession?" Now, this was interesting. I sat up straight.

"I got them to use for cooking. That one is meant for vegetables and meat, while the other is specifically for meat."

"Then why bring them to a lake? You had the most peculiar objects with you when you came here." I sighed, then bit my lip.

"No doubt Floki has told you a bit about me." Rollo nodded. "The knives cut through flesh as well. The pills Ubbe took are good for you if you only take one a day, but if you take too many, your heart stops beating, and you lose consciousness. " Rollo's brow knitted together even further.

"Why would you want to kill yourself twice?" He sat down, sheathing the knife again.

"To make sure it would work. They also make your blood a bit thinner, so it flows out of wounds faster. I had already failed twice before."

"That's cowardice. Failed cowardice."

"To me, it was desperation. I do not believe in an afterlife. There's just darkness, nothing. I should know, I've been dead before. Then I was brought back to life by a very skilled healer. Yours is not the only culture that frowns on suicide."

"How come you haven't killed yourself since you got here? You had all your stuff."

"I didn't want to die as much as I wanted my suffering to end. Coming here took away the source of my suffering, except my memories. I figured I might as well give it a shot."

"You know I will tell Ragnar of our conversation. What do you think he'll do when he hears you meant to kill yourself? Why are you so honest?" I just shrugged.

"He'll either kill me or see that I no longer want to die. Judging by how he's treated you in the past, there's a fair chance he'll let me live. Being honest shows I am trustworthy, or at the very least willing to cooperate. Even though I can't always answer his questions."

"I get the feeling you're too smart for your own good. What did you do back home? Before you became a slave?"

"I was a scholar, of sorts. I studied many things, though only briefly. I know a little about a lot."

"You must have been rich, then."

"My parents were doing well for themselves. When I left to go study, there were plenty of times I barely had enough money to buy food, though. I know both sides of the coin. I know happiness can't be bought, though it can provide some comfort and ease of mind."

"What did your father do?"

"He... I feel very uncomfortable talking about this. I don't like talking about that part of my past."

"I command you to answer." I closed my eyes for a bit, then bit my lip again.

"He was a merchant of sorts."

"And?"

"And that's it. He spent a lot of time working." Rollo seemed to sense he wouldn't get much information out of me on the subject, not unless he'd ask about specific details. He edged a little closer, getting into my personal space. I pulled up my knees, but in response, he put a hand on one of them.

My breathing became intense. What was Rollo playing at? He was together with Siggy, how could he even dream of humiliating her by forcing himself on me? As his hand started to slide down towards my thigh, I put my hand on his. He swatted it away, leaving little room for wrong interpretations.

"Please don't," I begged of him. "Please don't touch me." I felt tears rising to the surface, with fear and anger following. All the brave thoughts on never letting a man touch me without putting on a fight were far away now. I dragged them back kicking and screaming. Rollo was a jerk, and he knew I wasn't fond of him touching me like this.

"Or what?" His hand now touched the bare skin on my ankles, moving upward, exposing skin as he pulled up my skirts.

"I'll kill you or die trying." Rollo just scoffed at that. As his hand made its way to just below my knee I lunged forward and tried to grab one of my knives. I touched the handle, but Rollo grabbed my arm before I could draw it. A smile played on his lips as he got up, pulling me up by my elbow. Thinking he was underestimating me, I made another attempt to get one of my knives with my other hand. With ease, he pushed me against the tree I had been using as a backrest. In response, I spat in his face. That just made him laugh. Angry tears started rolling down my face. I wouldn't let him win. I couldn't.

"Rollo? What are you doing?" I saw Floki walking towards us but didn't delude myself into thinking he would help me.

"You fucking pig," I hissed at Rollo. I brought up my leg and hit Rollo in his groin. Groaning and bending over, he let go of me. "If you dare touch me again, I will kill you." Floki seemed to enjoy the sight of Rollo in pain, but he refused to let me storm off. Knowing how he had taken care of three wolves with his axes, I didn't want to test him by making a feeble attempt to run off.

"You're still up to trouble," Floki said, his hand catching my wrist. "Did you really think Rollo would be interested in you?"

"Do you think I'd leave such a thing to chance? I know perfectly well what men are capable of when their wives aren't around. Him being interested in me doesn't have to matter."

"Is that why you fear us? Do you keep these secrets on purpose? So you'll feel protected? Special?" Special? That was the same word Hvitserk used when he was talking about how Ragnar thought about me. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

"The only thing special about me is that I'm different. If Ragnar thinks there is something more to me, he is sadly mistaken. Try and tell him that, if you're so worried."

"Oh, we will," Floki said with a devious grin. Two strong arms grabbed me from behind. It was Rollo. I tried stomping on his feet, putting my elbows to his ribs, even kicking up my feet to try and kick him in the groin again, but it was useless. As I tried to free myself from his grasp, Floki walked away.

"You'll be sorry for that," Rollo whispered in my ear. He dragged me to a tree and shoved me with my back into it. When I made to scream, he put a hand over my face, keeping a tight grip on my wrists with his other hand and pushing his body against mine to keep me against the tree. Trying to bite his fingers, I kept resisting until Floki came back with a length of rope. Were they seriously going to tie me up?

As Rollo let go of one of my hands I landed a sucker punch in his eye. Floki caught it right after and wasted no time tying it down, walking around the tree and tying up my other wrist as well.

"I will fucking end you!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as Rollo pulled away the hand covering my mouth. "You pox-ridden son of a whore, I will kill you for this!" Finally having had enough, Rollo slapped me square in the face. making me bite my tongue. I fell silent from the shock, but as I spat out blood I was even more mad at him. "Is that all you got? You fucking wanker! How big and mighty you must feel! Hitting a woman that's tied down! And you still hit like a little -" My rant was cut short by a piece of filthy cloth that Floki put in my mouth. The taste of it almost made me gag. Before I could spit it out another piece of cloth was bound around my head, keeping the gag in place.

"Shut the fuck up!" Floki hissed. "You want everyone to know where we are? Stupid fucking bitch." If he hadn't tied me up, I'd not have had any reason to scream in the first place. Did he really think I'd let myself get tied to a tree that easily? I wanted to scratch his fucking eyes out.

I had to focus on my breathing to keep from throwing up. My stomach was already heaving a bit from the terrible tasting make-shift gag in my mouth. As I calmed down Rollo spat at my feet, then avoided a kick.

"I'll get you for that," he hissed, then walked away.

"Don't you walk away," Floki told Rollo, not wanting to be stuck with babysitting me alone.

"She'll be fine. Besides, I'm thirsty. Just leave her there." My nostrils flared and my eyes narrowed. Were they really going to leave me here, at the edge of the forest by myself? I made the effort to force out a grunt, but it only seemed to encourage Floki to go with Rollo.

How had I gone from talking to Rollo about my past to being tied to a tree? I couldn't believe Ragnar would agree to how I was treated. What if some more wolves came up to me? Was I supposed to kick them to death? Or what if some man came by and thought I'd be an even more easy lay than usual? They had left me alone, and vulnerable. I couldn't even sit down.

Hours must have passed before I heard voices rise above the soft conversations that happened just out of my sight. I kept my eyes closed, straining to hear what they were saying. I wanted to be prepared if they were planning on hurting me.

"... did what?"

"... only way... fighting... Rollo in the eye." That was Floki.

"Of course she'd … what else did you expect?" Ragnar had come back.

"She kept shouting! We had to do something."

"Did she try to run away?" Floki paused for a moment.

"No," he finally said.

"Then why the fuck did you tie her up? She knows she can't survive out in the woods."

"She gave Rollo a black eye and kneed him in the groin." I scoffed at that, then had to fight down the urge to puke. They were sure to have heard, so I opened my eyes. In the faint glow of the moon, I could see them walking the last few meters between us.

"At least she's still alive," Ragnar sighed. "Untie her," he told Floki. He did as Ragnar commanded, but sneered at me as he loosened the rope. As soon as one of my hands was free I ripped off the cloth and got out the filthy rag. I spat a few times, hoping to get the taste of it out of my mouth.

"I take it the plan went well?" I asked Ragnar. I figured he wouldn't go scouting himself, he must have had another reason for going out with a few of his best men. As Floki got the knot out of the other end of the rope I rubbed my wrists, trying to get back some feeling into him.

"We succeeded, but there's still a second part to it." Something in his eyes betrayed he needed me for that last part. As much as I wanted to curse Floki to hell and back, I had to keep in mind I was nothing but a slave to them. I'd caused nothing but trouble lately, so I really needed to tread carefully. I'd even punched Ragnar's brother in the face, that alone was grounds for severe punishment.

"What do you need me to do?"


	27. Misdirection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 21-06-800

I ran through the woods as if my life depended on it. Half tripping over tree branches and casting furtive glances back, I made my way through a stream of water and then came across an open field. Staying near the edge of the forest, I kept on running. I had to. I only stopped as I fell, an arrow hitting a tree in front of me. I was seen.

"Who goes there!" a man called out to me.

"P-Please... Please don't hurt me!" I said, still sitting on the ground. My eyes went wide as I saw how close the arrow had come to hitting me. Gazing at the direction the voice had come from, I saw a man approaching, riding on a horse. "Please, save me! They're after me!" I was still out of breath.

"Who's chasing you?" the man asked.

"Ragnar and his men." At the mention of that name, the man stopped his horse and called out to the others.

"Where is he?" My voice caught in my throat, forcing me to swallow.

"B-Back there. In the woods. Please, help me. I ran away from their camp, please keep me safe. I'll do anything, but please, you have to help me." I walked up to the man and looked up at him in despair.

"You're a slave," he said, his voice drenched in disgust. "Guys! We've got a runner!"

A man resembling the description Ragnar had given me came up to meet us. He must have been Jarl Borg. He would know how useful a slave turned against her master could be. At least, that's what Ragnar was counting on.

"You, slave," he spoke to me. "Tell me where Ragnar is, and if your information is correct I will make you a free woman." With the tensions rising as they had lately, it was a tempting offer. I'd be able to make real friends, and find a job, maybe even get a place of my own. I hadn't even considered the option of betraying Ragnar and Aslaug to save my own skin like this.

But thinking of Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd being slain at his hand made the decision for me. Those boys had made me want to give it a try, living here. Their smiles were the reason I could drag myself out of my bed on mornings I'd rather play dead. Even if I'd try, having to live with their blood on my hands was not a life I'd want to live for long.

"Jarl Borg," I said with a sigh, falling at his feet. My dress was just short enough at the arms, so my wrists were visible as I reached up to clutch the hem of his cloak, bearing the marks of the rope Floki had tied me up with. "I fled just before dawn, I've been running ever since. Ragnar was hiding at a farmhouse with his family."

"How do we get there?"

"If you follow the stream that runs through the forest over there you'll find him," I said, pointing towards the line of trees I'd come from. With my sleeves still skirted up a bit, he was sure to have seen the red, angry stripes on them. "Be careful, he has brought along at least twenty warriors." Jarl Borg just laughed at that. With Lagertha and her warriors added to the total, Ragnar's force stood at sixty. He made to leave, but I clutched his cloak tight as I got up.

"Please, you must protect me!" He didn't like being told what to do, or hear a slave demanding to be protected. My desperate tone made him want to kick me down even lower than I already was.

"Head back to Kattegat. We'll deal with you later." The ominous sound of his words told me he never meant to make me a free woman. The Jarl and his men took off, following his lead. I was left alone, horses galloping past me.

Not until the last men were lost into the woods did I drop my act. I straightened my dress and picked a small apple from a nearby tree. I'd never outrun the Jarl's forces if they succeeded and came back. At least near the road, there was less chance of being attacked by wild animals. Again. The best thing for me to do was to wait here for Ragnar.

Facing the sun, I enjoyed some of its shine while I still could. When we got back to Kattegat, I'd be rushed into cleaning every trace of invasion off the hall, no doubt, either before or after a cross-examination about all the shit I'd pulled lately. I sang a few songs to pass the time, though I wasn't sure of some of the words. Just as I was wondering how long it could take to murder forty men, I heard people approaching. I got up and was anxious to see who rode up front.

Of course, Ragnar and his men were victorious. The earl wore a satisfied smirk on his face as he dragged Jarl Borg behind him on a length of rope. At his wink, I joined the group and walked beside Ragnar. Before any of us could speak, the Jarl recognized me and tried to attack me.

"You bitch! You stupid fucking whore!" No one called me stupid, or a whore. I turned on my heel and sucker punched him in the face. Only then did I hold my breath and cast a furtive glance up.

"I am so sorry," I said, trying to keep up with the horse. "I had no right to do that."

"Where did you even find a slave like her?" Lagertha asked Ragnar before he could rebuke me.

"You don't want to know," he responded with a sigh. He shot a glance backward, seeing Borg was having trouble comprehending what had just happened.

"Fucking whore! How dare you at-" Ragnar pulled on the rope, causing the Jarl to fall to the ground mid-sentence. He seemed to have forgotten about my indiscretion already. Perhaps having him punched like that by a slave was just the thing to rub in his defeat even more. I kept my eyes forward, wondering just what would happen now.

"It looks like you played your part well," Ragnar told me, still wearing the same smirk.

"I might have told him how many warriors were with you," I admitted.

"You said it would be twenty men!" Jarl Borg groaned as he tried to get up.

"I might have forgotten to add Lagertha's." I heard Lagertha snort. Coming from her, it still sounded feminine. She was very different from Aslaug, and I had to admit she was a woman worth my admiration, as well as my fear.

"How convenient. I was wondering why he came at us with such resolve."

"You could have been a free woman!" Ragnar glanced back at the Jarl at hearing those words, then turned to me. "Fucking bitch! I'll kill you! Argh!" At least one of them seemed to enjoy this balance of power.

"You could have sold me out," Ragnar said just a bit too casually.

"It seems we both have the same weakness. I could never let anything happen to the boys, not even if it meant my freedom." Or my death, but that sounded a bit too dramatic.

"Traitorous cunt!" Ragnar pulled on the rope again, harder this time.

"You're the girl who saved Ubbe," Lagertha suddenly spoke. I looked up at her, thinking back to when she'd spoken to me before. Her tone was the same as back then. Friendly, but with hints of accusation and sarcasm if you thought to look for them.

"Yes, that was me."

"What's your name?"

"It's Ragnhild, ma'am."

"Come, walk beside me for a while." I jogged ahead of Ragnar's horse and changed sides. This up close, I couldn't help but feel intimidated. Not a single hair had gotten out of place during the fighting, and the way she carried herself could scare off even my father. I did not want to get on her bad side, ever.

"My lady," I said softly as she remained silent.

"What exactly is it you do for Ragnar?" I glanced over at him, seeing he was leaning on his horse a bit to see where this would be going.

"I take care of his children, I help cook, and serve."

"You still have a terrible accent. Did Athelstan not teach you how to speak properly?" They knew each other, I'd almost forgotten that.

"He taught me as much as he could before he left. The sounds still taste strange on my tongue, and I have more important things to worry about than my accent."

"A slave, with worries?"

"For the boys," I clarified. "Though they help me as much as they can."

"I suppose they now both owe you their lives..."

"I wasn't aware a slave could be owed anything." Ragnar chuckled, making Lagertha look his way. She caught me looking up as she returned her gaze at me.

"Usually not... But usually does not apply to you, does it?" Just what was she implying?

"My lady?"

"Do you remember what you told me when we last spoke? In the hall?" I flushed at the memory. I'd blurted it out, and apparently, I had made an impression on her.

"You two already know each other?" Ragnar asked.

"We spoke only briefly. She told me you had brought her to the Seer." Now Ragnar flushed a bit, clearing his throat as he sat up straight and looked the other way to admire the scenery.

"So what did she tell you?" he asked. He was severely overestimating his casualness, and how convincing it was.

"Why don't you tell him?" she asked me. "You act all modest now, but I know you take more liberty with others. I heard you shouting at Rollo last night."

"I told her that my life belongs to me and that I may decide where I wish to go." There were some sparrows flying off in the woods to my right, making a beautiful scene worth a lingering look.

"Just how much did the Seer tell you?" Ragnar asked. As I caught his eyes, I saw he was more than intrigued. I had only told him of when he would know, so he must have heard other bits as well, like the contradictions I had told Siggy to convince her to let me see the execution, and Athelstan knew I'd find happiness here. "You were only with him for a few minutes."

"He told me to ask what questions burned inside me, and I had a lot of questions."

"He never just... Talks to someone," Lagertha said, wariness creeping into her voice.

"Apparently he does to her. When I spoke to him afterward, he told me to be patient with her." I hadn't known that. It did explain a lot, both on how I'd gotten away with so many things, and how serious they took the Seer and his words. "She did just appear out of thin air," he provided, making Lagertha arch an eyebrow.

"Then where did she come from?" When Ragnar didn't answer her, she turned to me. I remained silent as well, making her scoff. "Where do you come from? How did you get here? Answer me, slave." Ragnar only laughed and kept his eyes on us. "Why are you here? Who are you?" This conversation had taken a turn for the worse very, very fast.

"I've tried that already," he said. "You won't get much further than you already have."

"Have you, now? Then why does she still live?" Her eyes pierced mine, making me feel very uncomfortable.

"Because I like how she can make you all riled up like this." Lagertha grunted and turned her horse around, making me halt. Sat atop her horse, she held her sword to my throat. I squinted a little against the sun but otherwise remained motionless. If anything, my lack of acknowledgment of her sword at my throat made her even more pissed off.

"You refuse to answer me?"

"I cannot answer you what I do not know."

"Don't lie to me. Ragnar might let you get away with this shit, but I won't." Then I was grateful she was not my mistress, and she could not harm me without Ragnar's permission. I didn't want to look at him for confirmation, scared he just might let her, this once.

"How can I lie when I'm not saying anything?"

"Just what are you playing at?"

"Come, we need to get back," Ragnar said, growing impatient.

"Ragnar, you accept such insolence?" He gave her a look, which she fully understood somehow.

"The Seer told her terrible things will happen when we know. I think it best not to tempt the fates."

"Huh. He sure knows how to make me even more curious... Still, I wonder how you can allow her to take care of your sons knowing all this."

"I'm a patient man," Ragnar replied.

"You are many things, Ragnar Lothbrok, but patient is not one of them." She withdrew her sword and turned back again, and the column behind us followed. Not even one of them was clear of blood, making me nauseous. All their eyes were pointed at me and Lagertha, after the sudden halt. All of them were already much taller than me, and now most of them had a horse to sit on.

"Maybe I've changed since you last saw me."

"Last time I saw you was half a year ago."

"Last time I was a different man."

"At least you hadn't let your lands get usurped." I shied away a little as they started bickering like an old married couple. At least they weren't paying attention to me, anymore.


	28. Torvi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 21-06-800

As we came to Kattegat, the few warriors Jarl Borg had left behind quickly fled. Without having to be told I tore down the banners left by the Jarl in the great hall and threw them into a fire. Then I started cleaning up, starting with clearing out the private back rooms in the hall.

A woman was sitting on Ragnar and Aslaug's bed, only standing up as she saw me. Her blond hair almost reached her waist. She looked beautiful, like a true Viking princess. Her green eyes and dark brows formed a shrill contrast with her fair skin, making her seem almost elf-like. I was pleasantly surprised to notice she was barely any taller than me, a rare thing to come across.

"Have you come to kill me?" she asked. Her face showed no fear.

"I have come to clean up," I told her as I started pulling on the bedding. A clean bed was the least I could do for Ragnar and Aslaug after all the shit I'd pulled. Besides, I had a feeling Borg had sex in this bed, and that was just plain nasty.

"Has my husband been killed?" Her husband? As she was sitting on the earl's bed just a minute ago... She must have been the Jarl's wife. She looked fierce, determined, and a little confused.

"Not as far as I know. I presume Ragnar hasn't dragged him back here just to kill him."

"What will he do to him?" This woman was so much better than Borg deserved. In the face of danger, she remained strong and loyal.

"Nothing good, I imagine. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

"You... You're apologizing to me?" Her confusion almost made me feel confused, as well. How could such a strong woman ever want to marry a dirtbag like Borg? She didn't seem like she was aware of everything Borg had been up to, despite her obvious bravery and clever mind. I took the liberty of sitting down on a seat opposite of her, leaving the bedding for what it was.

"I don't know if you had anything to do with all this. To me, you're a loving wife who is worried about her husband. Why would I not want to help you?" I felt the need to reach out and hold her hand, but this wasn't an era where emotions had a lot of room outside of very private conversations and passionate moments. Still, she seemed like she could use a hug.

"What is your name?" Her voice turned friendly. She must have realized I was serious when I said I wanted to help her, if only by answering her questions.

"I'm Ragnhild," I said with a tiny bow of my head.

"You're a slave," she mused.

"I am."

"How peculiar. I don't recognize your accent."

"I'm not from around here. One day I simply appeared at a lake nearby. I only recently learned the language. May I ask your name?"

"I'm Torvi. I take it you know who I am. And more importantly, I've heard of you."

"You have?" Why would anyone even bother talking about me? I was the stranger, the slave, the one to constantly do dumb things.

"It's said you hold Ragnar's trust and take care of his sons. Does that include all of them?" I started to blush at the realization she'd included Bjorn into her count.

"Only the young ones. May I ask how you heard of me?"

"The other slaves don't like you. They were fond of telling us how much they despised Ragnar, and how they couldn't understand why he would trust you with his sons. I know better than to underestimate what a slave knows, and spent some time hearing them out."

"Then my first impression of you was correct. You're as smart as you are beautiful."

"You realize I'm no longer in charge here, right?"

"That doesn't mean I can't be polite. I only speak the truth. Much to Ragnar's displeasure, at times. If the circumstances were different, I'm sure we could have gotten along fine."

"Had you not been a slave, you mean."

"Had you not been the wife of the man who tried to overtake Kattegat from Ragnar." As far as I was concerned, I'd rather be in my own shoes. "But alas, we can't choose what happens to us."

"Are you this frank with Ragnar as well?"

"Only with his sons. No, that's not true. I tend to get into trouble a lot whenever I talk freely. I don't like lying, and the boys tend to ask the right questions."

"And what would the right questions be to ask you? Why does Ragnar trust you?"

"That's a good one, but I was recently warned not to talk to outsiders asking about him." Torvi scoffed in the same feminine way Lagertha had. Her smile was infectious. I could see how a man like Borg would be attracted to her. She was the calm to his storm. "I can tell you that I am well taken care of. I have a warm bed, sufficient food, and I'm not being worked to the bone. Compared to others out there, I'm quite the lucky woman."

"I've never heard a slave describe herself as lucky... You intrigue me, Ragnhild. And if Ragnar lets you get away with your attitude, you must intrigue him, as well."

"Lagertha was equally confused, as am I at times."

"She spoke to you?"

"She did. She recognized me from before, and Ragnar had me play a part in... Capturing your husband." She cocked her head at that.

"You feel uncomfortable talking about it with me."

"Do you not resent me for it?"

"Do you want me to resent you?"

"Torvi?" She looked up as Ragnar's voice rang through the hall.

"I am here," she answered. Then, more softly, she turned to me. "It was nice meeting you, Ragnhild."

"You, too," I said with a genuine smile. "I hope things will work out well for you." She walked out into the hall, while I decided it would probably be a good idea to finish changing the bedding.

Luckily the great hall was still fairly clean, me having scrubbed it top to bottom before we left. The grain stores had been destroyed though, leaving me to cut more vegetables than normally would have been the case. As Tris and Milly had been killed by Ragnar after he found out they had sold him out the minute Borg had taken up residence in the hall, I had enough to do to keep everything running smoothly. Until Aslaug could buy new slaves, I had to work twice as hard to keep the hall from falling behind.

The town had barely suffered any casualties after Jarl Borg had driven us away, leaving many hands to help repair the damages, and rebuild the grain stores. I felt much safer with the town being this busy. On the one hand, Ragnar and Aslaug barely had time to get back on the issue of my insubordinate attitude, and on the other, I was barely visible to the men, always busy doing something that took me to dark corners where my silence was my cover.

Still, I had lost something huge following the invasion. Every time I had to cut anything, I vehemently wanted one of my own knives. As far as I knew, Rollo still held onto them. The ones I now had to use were very blunt in comparison, and a bit bent. I couldn't get into the groove of it, and I was crying because of the onions I was cutting.

"Are you sad to be back here?" I turned around and saw Bjorn standing behind me. I wiped the tears from my eyes, not wanting to look like I was tearing up in front of anyone I hardly knew. Especially if he had a tendency to see me.

"No, not at all. It's the onions, I'm not really crying." He smiled and sat down beside me. I focused back on the onions I was shredding.

"I heard you played a part in flushing out Borg."

"Oh, it was nothing. I just sent him where he needed to go."

"He was cursing at you all the way back here. You must have fooled him rather well."

"Had I failed, you would have been able to beat him, anyway. I just made it a little easier."

"You don't have to be modest. Mother told me how you deceived him." Last I knew she was still pissed at me for not answering her questions. What had changed?

"We had more men, and Borg had a bit too many archers. They wouldn't have done him much good in the woods, and we had the better morale and the advantage of fighting in our own lands. Even if Borg would come at you fully aware of what was waiting for him, he'd have lost." I glanced over as Bjorn remained silent for a bit, seeing he took me in the same way Ragnar sometimes did when I said something strange.

"How is it you know that?" I bit my lip, cursing how easily I was still goaded into answering questions honestly when it came to things better left unsaid.

"I..."

"Tend not to answer that kind of questions?" he finished for me.

"It's not like I do it on purpose. I don't find joy in keeping everyone in the dark."

"Then what gives you joy?" I glanced at him, seeing there wasn't an evil bone in his body. Still, I had to be more careful of what I said. He might look kind now, but I knew how quickly that could change.

"It is not for a slave to complain or want." I turned back to the onions but like before Bjorn was loath to give up.

"What makes you say that?" How oblivious was he? "Everyone has things they want." Not that much, it seemed.

"I just want to be happy," I shrugged, hoping it would deter him.

"Then I might know what will make you happy," he said as he flashed the knives in front of my eyes. "Father said they were yours. I've never seen anything like them. Even after the battle, they still held a firm edge." I glanced at him sideways. Were these used to kill someone? And why was Bjorn giving them back? I accepted them, checking for damage and blood spatters. "It's almost a waste to use them for cutting onions. They saved my life." My eyes going wide, I put down my knives as I turned to face him. He was just a boy, and he'd almost died? For a town that he didn't even live in?

"They did? What happened? Are you hurt?" Bjorn seemed glad I was worried about him. I guessed most slaves wouldn't care if he lived or died.

"My uncle sliced a man's throat who was about to swing an axe at my back." Hot damn. I felt my jaw drop as I imagined someone trying to kill him. "I recognized the hilt when I found it on the beach this morning. I imagine you'd probably like it back." I thought Ragnar had wanted to claim them for his own, but he must have changed his mind. And even my transgressions must have been less terrible than I'd thought, knowing how much Ragnar thought these knives were worth.

"Do you often almost die?"

"It's not like I do it on purpose," he grinned. His comment made my face flush as I realized he had thrown my own words back at me. "But I guess if you count every battle I enter to be putting my life at risk as you seem to think, then yes."

"I'm sorry for being so forward," I said as I fidgeted with the handle of the blunt knife in my hand. The wooden hilt was starting to rot away. "I'm not very good at being obedient."

"To me, that's not a bad thing. Good slaves make for boring conversation." He got up again, leaving me to my onions. "Besides, you're a brave woman, as far as I can tell. How can that ever be a bad thing?" It took a second to land, but then I realized what he had said. He'd called me a human. It almost made me cry in earnest.

"Thank you, Bjorn. I really appreciate that. And I'm happy you are still alive." Any lives lost over such a stupid thing as revenge was one too many, as far as I was concerned. I blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay. "Blasted onions," I sighed as I turned back to them. "They must have just been harvested."

"I find that hard to believe, but then again, you cried over a goat. Good luck with dinner." I just smiled, not knowing what to make of his comment. As he took off, I noticed the knives seemed to be sharpened a little, very carefully. Also, they had been cleaned. Why would he have bothered with that? I sighed and returned to the onions. It seemed all the sons of Ragnar were able to surprise me with such small gestures.


	29. Honest Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29-06-800

A few days later another sacrifice took place. Apparently, it was a human sacrifice this time. Rollo had been sharpening his broad-axe for hours, relishing in the honor of performing the sacrifice. I knew what it meant to him, and he had given me back my knives, in a sense. Still, I decided to sit this one out, preferring walking through the village and see what it looked like after the fighting. Just seeing anything at all was enough to bring a smile to my face. Life in this time was violent, and things could be taken from you in the blink of an eye. I was starting to see how the Viking could love and hate with such fierce passion.

I got to the edge of the forest, but I daren't go there anymore, not with night approaching. As I was making my way back, I noticed people were celebrating. The ritual must have been concluded. I headed back to the great hall, passing through the alleys, stalling until I would be required to serve ale to drunkards. In one of the houses by the main road, people were arguing, making me wonder what they were fighting about.

I heard Ragnar and Floki talking, their voices carrying outside through a closed door. I had never tried to listen in on their conversations on purpose, but I wanted to feel more secure in my standing after the tumultuous times. I was pretty sure the cover of darkness would prevent them from seeing my frame through the door and moved closer, peeking through a small slit between wooden planks.

"She makes no sense, Ragnar!" Using those words, he could only be talking about me. Ragnar tried to wave off the comment, but Floki persisted. "How long have you known me? Do you not trust my judgment?" Ragnar swilled the drink in his cup, then downed it. I moved over a bit, hoping to hear them speak more clearly. I was cautious though, I didn't want them to know I was eavesdropping on them.

"I spoke to the Seer before we left. About her. He told me many things." He fell silent for a moment. I strained to hear what he would say. "He told me she has much wisdom, but little knowledge. She speaks of truths yet to come, yet she does not know she lies. She is scarred while her skin is fair, and her fate is entwined with ours." Ragnar allowed the words to sink in, then continued. "What am I to make of that? What would you have me do?" Floki grunted, rubbing his hands over his head as if to wipe off the confusion raging in his skull.

"She's careless, disrespectful and most of all insufferably smart. When has she ever not caused you trouble? Who knows what she's plotting?"

"She has never given me cause to doubt her. My sons care for her. Even Torvi commended me on finding such a caring woman to take care of my children, did you know that? They barely spoke for five minutes. She may be callous, and disrespectful, but she does not seem to want to harm me or mine."

"She's dangerous. The shit you let her get away with, it's ridiculous." Now that I had to agree on with Floki.

"I wish to talk to her. Bring her here." My heart skipped a beat as I hurriedly walked away. I didn't want them to find out I had been listening to their conversation through the door, stealing glances through the cracks.

Out of habit, I went towards Athelstan's place, despite him not living there right now. He had chosen to remain in England with King Horik as Ragnar had to come back here. I heard a door fall shut behind me.

"Ragnhild!" Floki called out. He must have recognized me from behind. I turned around, watching the tall man approach. His head hung low on his shoulders, chin pointing forwards. He reminded me of a vulture. Ever since he had tied me up, I had loathed him and had been afraid.

"Ragnar wishes to speak with you," he said, his face clear of emotions. His neutral stare unnerved me, his tone brooking no argument. I kept my eyes downcast, following the skinny giant. Inside the house I was just standing next to, Ragnar sat at the head of a wooden table, horned cup of ale in hand. He gestured for me to sit next to him, offering me a drink as well. Gingerly I accepted, not knowing what to make of this earl, my master, treating me as an equal. Clearing his throat, he spoke.

"Floki spoke to me about what happened while I was away. He told me of the curse, and of the wolves. To me, it seems you are foolish, but not dumb. Favored by the gods, despite the fears that rule you." He looked at me expectantly, gauging my reaction to his words. My eyes remained fixated on the mug in front of me, not knowing what else to do. He leaned forward a bit, noticing I tried to shy away.

"Tell me, girl. Do I frighten you?" A chill ran down my spine. "I will not harm you. I only want you to speak the truth. I promise I will not get angry unless you tell me lies." He captured my gaze as I tried to read his face. Was he honest? I couldn't see it yet.

"I heard that promise many times before, and never has it been kept."

"Have I not always kept my word to you?" He raised an eyebrow, daring me to call him a liar. I took a drink and sighed deeply. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, curious to see where this would lead.

"What is it you wish to talk about?"

"Tell me about where you come from. How did you get here?" Great. Let's start off with an easy question, why don't we.

"I come from a place you can't ever hope to reach, not in a thousand years. Ship nor horse can take you there." A fire took root in Ragnar's chest as if wanting to challenge me that he, the mighty Earl of Kattegat, could do it. Floki just blew a raspberry. "As for how and why I got here... I do not know." Ragnar seemingly believed me for now, or at least didn't want to show his anger yet.

"Why will you not tell me? Why not point it out on a map?"

"Because of what could happen if I did. The Seer told me it would be bad."

"And what am I to make of that? Will you hide behind the Seer for every question I ask of you?"

"Too much truth is dangerous. If you find out..." I hesitated a bit, but then pushed through. "The Seer told me kingdoms will fall apart, and families will be torn asunder. And I will have to decide who lives, and who dies." I thought he might laugh, or start cursing, but he didn't seem to react at all. Even Floki remained silent.

"What can you tell us, without causing all that? About this strange, unreachable land of yours..." I thought for a second, not entirely sure of how to phrase my words. He would probably know a fair bit already, having heard about my talks with Athelstan and Floki.  
  
"We are never hungry or cold. The beds are soft as clouds. We don't sacrifice anything or anyone. There is no need to slaughter animals or grow crops for ourselves. That is done for us, by people who dedicate their lives to it. We need only visit one market stall to gather everything we need. Ale, clothes, fish, everything is simply there. Shortages are almost non-existent. We bury the dead in the ground or burn them and scatter the ashes. There are no more predators in the woods, driven from them as the woods disappeared almost everywhere to make place for houses and farms everywhere. Women rarely die from childbirth, men rarely die from battle. Most people live to see their grandchildren grow up, or even their great-grandchildren." If Ragnar was surprised, he hid it well. Floki openly stared in disbelief, his mouth hanging open a bit. I had told him a bit, but never to this extent. It was he that spoke first.

"If there is so little death, why are you so filled with fears?" I grew uncomfortable, rather avoiding the subject to come. I chugged the cup to calm my nerves, looking at my hands as I answered.

"I don't fear death," I said defensively. "Death is easy. Death is an end, nothing more. Life, however... Life is hard, it's always been that way for me. My father was... not a kind man. Since birth, he taught me fear. I feared the world, I feared myself, but most of all I feared him. For eighteen years, he taught me to be afraid. He made it so I feared him and needed his protection at all times. I trusted no one, I never felt safe. Happiness was but a dream, some fantasy I could never make real." Did they understand? Could they fathom the torturous mind games my father had played on me?

"Why didn't you fight?" Floki asked.

"It's not like there were any weapons around. Swords and axes and spears are rare and hard to come by. All I had were words and small knives, such as the ones I keep with me. For a long time, I didn't dare raise a hand against my father, not until I was eighteen. The anger and despair I felt inside me grew bigger than my fear, for the first time in my life." I felt a sense of pride thinking back to how I'd confronted him. "I made to cut his throat, but he got hold of my arm and threw me to the ground. As he pulled me up, I shoved a second knife in his chest. I ran from the house and never came back. I never found out if he was dead or alive." Well, being here now... "At least, not until I got here. Here, he cannot follow. In a way, I was set free." I glanced at Floki, who was rubbing his head again. Did he understand this was a big part of the reason I had wanted to end my life? I dared not ask. Sensing the tale was over, Ragnar spoke up.

"You speak in riddles, but I don't think you are lying. At least... Not that you know of. But I am wondering, why did you want to kill yourself?" I made to get up to refill my cup, but Ragnar filled it for me. "I see you are loath to talk about it."

"It's a very long and painful story. I'm not sure how to even start, or how much details you require. And I'm wondering why you are so interested." With all this secrecy and him having gone to the Seer to ask about me, I felt like I was being judged again, as had been the case when I first saw him.

"Why not start after you supposedly killed your father." It was as good a place as any.

"I got out of there, tried to build a life, and failed time after time. Bad things kept happening to me, and I figured that I couldn't get hurt anymore when I was dead."

"Though you believe there is no afterlife?"

"It's not a belief, I know it for a fact. I was dead once, but then got brought back in the same way I saved Ubbe. There is only darkness and nothing."

"Then what do you believe in?" Floki asked, a hard look on his face. Ragnar put his hand on Floki's arm, ushering him to keep silent.

"What gods do you know of?" Ragnar had kept his word about not showing any anger, although I couldn't get a read on his emotions at all. I shot a cautious look at Floki again, knowing this topic could anger him easily.

"Well... There are people who live in a... err... an endless beach, I suppose. There is barely a tree in sight, no ocean or water to speak of. They believe in a single god, just like the Christians. Their god told them to keep their women covered at all times, you can only see their eyes. There is a huge holy city called Jerusalem, which is coveted by both the Christians and these Muslims. Many wars have been fought over it, and many will follow. They will not eat pigs, believing them dirty and unworthy. In other countries, people refuse to eat cows, thinking them holy. Those people believe in many gods with many names, who have human bodies adorned with animal heads. Others still hold nature sacred, believing the gods to surround them in the form of trees and stones and animals. Some religions preach war, others preach love. Some preach of paradise after death, others preach of being reborn."

"All lies, and false," Floki huffed.

"I have heard of this city at eternal war," Ragnar started before he was cut off by an angry Floki.

"Do you share secrets with the priest as well, Ragnar? And do they whisper of false gods, making you weak with doubt?" he spat, venom dripping from his voice. Ragnar got up and towered over his friend.

"You have seen her fire for yourself. It was you who chose to save her life from the wolves and it was you who wanted to talk about her. I have much to do, as you know, and yet here I am. You will speak no more or leave." His voice was hushed but no less intimidating. Floki remained seated with a scowl on his face. I had remained still as stone, only looking up at the earl as he once again turned to me.

"Show me the markings on your leg," Ragnar demanded. His eyes forced me to heed his command, reminding me I was his property. If I didn't show him willingly, he would force me to let him see. His patience was wearing thin.

He hadn't gotten angry, but this was no longer just a friendly conversation between two people. I felt tricked. Resigning to my fate, I got up and lifted my skirts, revealing the tattoo on my right thigh. As it was on the inside, I had to put my foot on the seat for balance. My discomfort grew as Ragnar touched my thigh, feeling the skin with his calloused fingers. It was a gentle touch, but too intimate for comfort, and his fingers lingered long.

I kept my eyes fixed on the wall I faced, trying to keep my discomfort to myself. What could be so interesting about a tattoo of two cats playing with a ball of yarn? Floki must have seen it when Helga pulled out my IUD and told Ragnar about it. Ragnar offered no explanation as to why he wanted to see it, or why his touch lingered.

"Are there more?" All too happy I could finally lower my skirts, I dropped them. My fingers trembled as I opened the lacing on the front of my dress. I tried my best to hide my breasts from their eyes, which made them snicker. I felt vulnerable and embarrassed, even more so when Ragnar's hands moved down the bodice clinging on my body as I fumbled to pull it down.

His fingers found the red heart tattooed just above my left hip, flames swirling around it. This one held color as well, and I knew how rare that was to them. All the men and women who had tattoos had a greyish black ink, and it faded within a few years. Floki leaned forward to get a closer look, as well.

After a moment Ragnar made to sit, but I turned my back to him and removed my hair from my neck. It was a triquetra, inspired by the TV show Charmed. In an attempt to make it slightly more original, I had it done upside down. This time Ragnar refrained from touching my skin. I glanced backward nervously, not sure what was expected. Ragnar and Floki stared at me in silence. My back still facing them, I put my dress back on and sat down again, sitting further away from both of them than I originally had. I just wanted to leave, go to sleep, and wake up knowing this was just a bad dream.

"You may not know about the gods, but it seems they know about you," Floki said, following his words with an impish giggle. I was surprised to suddenly see him this gleeful, after his muttering and angry glares all through the conversation. Still, I felt glad to catch this glimpse of him, hoping we could get past our recent fighting.

"It seems," Ragnar slowly spoke, "that I can no longer keep you as a slave."


	30. Free Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29-06-800

I made my way back to the hall on automatic pilot. Ragnar had tried to explain to me what he'd meant, but the words hadn't sunk in yet. I pushed past all the drunk people celebrating.

"There you are! I told you to get back after the sacrifice, where have you been?" Siggy dragged me to a place better suited to scold me. "What's the matter with you? Did you see it by accident?"

"I was with Ragnar," I said barely audible. "He -"

"He should know better than to take you away somewhere at a time like this. Go tend to the hall and be quick about it." I didn't know what else to do, so I did as Siggy said. Her giving me orders was something I could understand. I followed her out to the hall and started clearing empty mugs off the tables.

Men started to shout at me to bring them ale, but I was tending to the very crowded hall by myself. Clearing tables and cleaning up large spills was already proving to be too much. All the shouting and jeering aimed at me made me feel angry, now I no longer had to be afraid of the men.

"Hey, slave!" Torstein was trying to get my attention for quite a while already when I finally got fed up and moved to stand in front of him, hands on my hips.

"What do you want?"

"Get me another ale," he demanded, smiling with his eyes. For the first time since I got here, I could say whatever the fuck I wanted.

"Fuck you. I won't do what you tell me." The men and women surrounding us howled with laughter as Torstein got up and looked down at me.

"I said, go get me a drink. Slave."

"And I said, go fuck yourself." I felt a weight lean on my shoulder, it was Floki.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

"This wench won't fetch me a drink," Torstein sneered. Floki turned to me, eyebrow raised.

"And I'm too busy already. Torstein has eyes to see. I'm not some dog to run after him." Floki giggled as he realized what had been going on.

"I was wondering when you'd start acting like the free woman you are. Ragnar thought you'd spend the rest of the night slaving away as usual." Torstein grunted at hearing the words.

"What do you mean, she's a free woman? Since when?"

"Since before she came in," Floki said with a mighty grin. "So why don't you apologize by getting Ragnhild a drink?" As Torstein stalked off, all manner of celebratory cheers came up from those who had heard Floki's words. It only made me feel more uncomfortable. Most of these people barely knew my name, had hardly given me a second glance whenever I'd walked past or topped off their drinks. And now, all of a sudden, they were acting as if we'd been friends for all that time.

Floki took both drinks from Torstein's hands and gave me one, taking the other for himself. Torstein grunted, but let it happen. I sat down next to Floki as he gestured, seemingly enjoying my confusion.

"So why did Ragnar free you?" one of the women asked. I opened my mouth to respond, but Floki spoke for me.

"She's never been just a slave. She's the vessel of Freyja." I slowly, steadily, emptied my horn. I didn't want to face their stares and feel their judgment.

"What? How did he know?"

"Ragnhild has some markings she managed to hide for quite a while... It's unmistakable, really." A storm erupted. Everyone clamored for my attention, wanting to ask questions, and offered to get me more ale. It was just too much. Floki put his hand on my arm as I tried to get up, asking with his eyes what was wrong.

"Just last week you tied me to a tree, and now you sing my praises. Do you think I just forgot about that?" I wrested his arm away from my shoulder, then got up to give all of them an earful. "All of you treated me like dirt at one point or another. I don't want to spend my first night as a free woman with you. I'll find the people who've always treated me like their equal. Screw you. All of you." I walked off before anyone could call after me. Some people tried to get my attention, but I ignored them. I'd only started helping out because I didn't want Siggy to have to take care of it all by herself, but not like this. Floki was right in one regard, I was now free to do whatever I pleased. And if I didn't want to let myself get abused and looked down on anymore, I bloody well didn't have to.

"Ragnhild? Why aren't you serving people?" Siggy asked as I brushed past her.

"Because Ragnar freed me, and I refuse to get treated like a dog. I'm happy to help out if you need me to, but I won't let them treat me like before."

"What? At a time like this? We're already short-handed!"

"Take it up with Ragnar. I mean to celebrate my freedom in my own way." She stared after me as I made my way to Ubbe and Hvitserk. I saw them crawling underneath a table, and as I bent down to see what they were up to I saw they were trying to get their hands on axes and knives that stuck out of belts.

"Alright you two, knock it off," I chided. They whined as they crawled out again, handing their loot off as they resurfaced. I put it all on the end of the table, leading to many a surprised look from the men and women who recognized their weapons.

"It was just a joke," Ubbe said as he crossed his arms. "Are you going to tell mother?"

"No, I won't. But I do have something important to tell you, and I want you to hear it from me."

"Is it serious?" Hvitserk asked, already starting to pout.

"Very serious, but very good as well." My smile worked infectiously, and both the boys were starting to grin as well.

"Well come on! What is it?"

"Your father made me a free woman earlier this evening. I'm no longer a slave." Ubbe knew what this meant to me, and he threw his arms around my waist.

"I'm so happy for you," he said with a big smile.

"I don't get it," Hvitserk said, starting to pout a little again. "You weren't a slave, you're our friend." I pulled him close as well, knowing I'd made the right decision to blow off the adults.

"I am now, little man. I can do whatever I want now." Hvitserk's eyes went big as he looked up at me.

"Does that mean you won't tell us stories anymore?"

"Are you kidding? It means I get to tell you as many stories as I want to, whenever I want to."

"Do you really mean that?" Ubbe asked. "What are you going to do? Like, for a job?"

"I don't know yet. I've got some time to figure it out, and at least tonight I want to celebrate. And I wouldn't dream of doing that without the two of you."

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" Ubbe took hold of my hand and dragged me and Hvitserk by extension with him, into the hall. He clearly felt more at ease than me and wasn't afraid to shoo people off to claim us seats. Hvitserk immediately ran off again, eager to get us something to drink.

"So how did it happen?" Ubbe asked. "Was it because you helped us out at the farmhouse?"

"I think that's part of it, but your father said something about how I'm a vessel."

"A vessel? Like a boat? That doesn't make sense."

"No, a vessel of Freyja." Ubbe's eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. "I don't know what that means," I admitted in a whisper.

"It means you're even more special than we thought."

"But I don't know why."

"Then we don't, either. You'll have to find out on your own."

"Any bright ideas on how I might do that?"

"I don't know. Just be amazing." I had to laugh so hard people turned their heads. Even as my laughter died out more and more people looked my way, and until Ubbe poked me in the ribs I didn't realize why. Aslaug was coming towards me, with some cloth in her hands and some things on top of it. I noticed the hall went silent as she reached me. I got up, unsure of what this was all about.

"It seems my husband has been a bit remiss in the traditions. Ragnhild, you are hereby a free woman. Please accept these gifts to help you build a life of your own." I gingerly took the packet, consisting of a rather nice-looking dress and a pouch, and what seemed like a tinderbox, and a small hunting knife.

"Thank you, Aslaug."

"May the gods keep you." The hall erupted into celebration again, leaving me to sit down feeling a little awkward. Hvitserk came running with a horn of ale for me, and water for him and his brother. Aslaug sat down next to me.

"I take it you may have some questions," she said with a tiny hint of a smile.

"I do... But I was hoping to just take the night off and worry about all of it tomorrow."

"As is your right. I'd still like to ask you to stay on as a servant until we can find some proper replacement. It would mean you'd get to sleep here until you can find other lodgings, for one." I hadn't even considered that.

"Having a bed sure sounds nice. But I'm not sure..."

"As a servant, you'll be treated better, of course. And now everyone knows you're no longer a slave, you'll notice a change in their attitude."

"Yes, I've noticed already. At least until I can find someplace to stay," I agreed.

"There are the traditional nine silver coins in the pouch you can spend on clothes and supplies, but you are of course welcome to share our hearth and home for the time being. Ragnar told me of the circumstances, and I think we can help each other out." I turned to Ubbe and Hvitserk.

"What do you think, would you like it if I help taking care of you for a little while longer?" Their enthusiastic cheers made even Aslaug smile.

"Well, come on then. Off to bed, let's give Ragnhild the night off."

"Ahw, but she wanted to celebrate with us!" Hvitserk pouted. He was getting very good at that, and getting what he wanted when he did. Aslaug wasn't as easily persuaded as me, though. After a last hug and kiss from me, they both went to the back with their mother. I sighed as I watched them go, feeling a little lost without them, still.

I got up and went outside, hoping to catch some fresh air. Carrying the gifts that came with freedom with me, I picked a quiet place on the beach. The dress looked a little frilly but was definitely a step up from the plain dresses I'd worn up until now. I'd have to go buy some new ones in the morning, as well as some other stuff. Nine silver coins were quite the treasure, considering I had little expenses yet.

"Are you really angry at me?" I turned around and saw Floki standing a short distance off.

"You tied me to a tree. You wanted Ragnar to interrogate me. What am I supposed to feel?"

"You lured wolves to us. You didn't answer simple questions, acting like we were asking for the impossible." He sat down next to me.

"Do you really think I'm a threat?"

"I know you're not. But only since I saw your markings tonight."

"Because they tell you I'm the vessel of Freyja?"

"Yes. Even if you are to kill me, I know it is for the greater good." Never would I have dreamed that his religious fervor would work to my advantage, not like this. Floki said it with such ease, such fearlessness...

"What does it even mean?"

"It means you were sent here by the gods." I sighed, not knowing what to make of it.

"Wolves don't come after a woman's blood like that. I didn't lure them in."

"Then you mean to tell me the wolves were a sign?"

"What would they even be a sign of? Freyja?"

"The number three is sacred. Bor and Bestla had three sons. There are three times three realms in Yggdrasil."

"So that's why Aslaug gave me nine coins."

"Yes. I'm sorry I tied you to the tree. You were fighting us pretty hard."

"Only after Rollo made me. If he hadn't touched me I wouldn't have had to fight."

"Then let's blame it all on him. I don't like him, anyway. He almost killed me, once." My eyes went wide at that.

"And you still drink and laugh with him?"

"We live fast and die young. It's no use to stay trapped in the past. Though I still hate his guts."

"When I ran up to Jarl Borg, I pretended I was a runaway slave. I pleaded for him to protect me and made sure he saw my wrists were still red from the ropes. He was convinced I told him the truth because of it, I think."

"Ragnar told me he offered to make you a free woman, back then."

"Ubbe offered to free me after three months." Floki chuckled at that. "But the thing is, I don't think I'll be able to survive outside of Kattegat. Had Ubbe freed me, I would have had nothing. No home, no language, and a lot of people who would hate me for using a loophole like that. Had I accepted Jarl Borg's offer, he'd have me killed for fear of me changing sides again."

"Does that mean you forgive me? Because that's a shitty 'I accept' no matter how you look at it."

"I still have a lot to learn. And I'd really like it if we could be friends."

"I thought we already were."

"Hvitserk told me you can't be friends with slaves. He didn't even understand it when I told him I was freed."

"Hvitserk thinks Floki is an appropriate name for a goat. What does he know of friendship?"

"Actually, that was Ubbe's idea."

"Hmpf. Little brat. Come on, let's go back inside. You shamed quite a lot of people who would like to apologize."

"I'm not sure if I'm ready to face them again."

"You have every right to be upset with them. Most of them did behave terribly. Others were kind to you or at least didn't bother you all that much. And none of them ever touched you against your will." He got up and extended a hand to me. "You have no reason to hide in the dark corners anymore, it's time for you to find the light. You are free to stay mad at them or forgive them. But it won't do to hide any longer."

"Is that a request to let Rollo think I am still mad at him?"

"Perhaps," he grinned as he pulled me up. "In any case, Ragnar doesn't have to know I hinted at it."


	31. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-07-800

"You want me to do what?" I couldn't believe what Ragnar was offering. He was serious, and a little amused.

"This will be your house," he repeated as he gestured towards the rooms. I let my own eyes wander around again. "You can move in when you want."

It was the same house where I was given my freedom, one of the guest houses meant for short stays from dignified visitors. The walls were adorned with shields and skulls and weavings, the furniture looked ancient, there was barely a second room. From the table, I could see the bed, large enough to hold two. Viking at that, so probably three of me. In all, it reminded me of a small student studio, about a hundred square feet in total. It was close to a palace.

There were some screens that hid away a corner, forming a secluded corner for the bed, as well as a wall to put up shelves for the kitchen. At least, I thought that was the kitchen. I'd make it my kitchen.

"I can't accept this," I sighed. "It's too much."

"I figured you'd say something like that. Floki already made some improvements, he was happy to help of course. I got the new girls to clean it up, and even the boys have helped out a bit." I took in a deep breath. Ragnar wasn't a fool. He knew what to say to get me to accept the house, playing on my guilt.

"You're trying to guilt me into taking it. Why do you want me to live here?"

"Because it's close to the hall, and it won't fall apart any time soon. You're terrible at taking care of yourself when it comes to materialistic things. And it won't do to have a Vessel of Freyja not have her own house."

"Then this house comes with my title, not me. I'll save up for a house of my own." Ragnar started to look a little irritated.

"Take the house. I won't have you host all of your visitors in my hall, so you will have need of a place to call your own."

"And who do you imagine I will have to host?"

"So far? There have been a few requests to talk to you privately." Then why would Ragnar get those, and not me? I got the feeling there was more going on here. Ragnar was hiding something, and it might just be an answer to what I wanted to know myself.

"Did you know, there are three kinds of lies." Ragnar narrowed his eyes as he pressed his lips together. "There's a lie of commission, where you skirt the truth. Like how I told Borg how many men you had with you, but didn't include Lagertha's. Then you can tell a lie of omission with just a part of the truth missing, to make it all seem better than it is. Like how I told Borg I'd left the camp just before dawn, but failed to mention you all had as well. A third is where you misdirect someone's attention, like how I made Borg believe I was being held captive, and that I'd betray you, but never said it outright." He was waiting for me to finish my speech, looking unimpressed so far. "What kind of lie are you using on me? I'm sure the answer is all three, but assumption is the mother is all mistakes. What do you want from me, in exchange for this house?"

"The house is a gift freely given," he insisted. "You have served my family well. Did you not say slavery is not allowed where you come from? Think of this as payment for your services." Even in five year's time, I wouldn't be able to afford a house like this. "I'm giving it to you because of what I think it's worth, not according to your standards," he added.

"Then why not answer my question? You're trying to get me to trust you by changing the subject." He looked a little unsettled. "If I had to guess, I'd say you want to apologize for making me work as a slave when I'm obviously anything but. You mean to buy yourself out of a steaming pile of shit." His eyes changed to a neutral expression. There was more. He had invested in the house, he wanted me to be comfortable here for a while. It wasn't just back-pay, it was an attempt to buy my loyalty for the foreseeable future.

"Just what do you think you've figured out about me?" I leaned back with a smile, enjoying watching Ragnar have to chase for answers now. "What do you know? How do you know it?"

"I know many things, Ragnar Lothbrok, so you'll have to be more precise."

"How did you manage to get Jarl Borg into the most favorable position for us? I never told you to make him think we were further away, or have him approach from the south instead of the west." Bjorn had asked me about how I'd known about battle tactics as well... The simple answer was because of computer games that involved a lot of sneaking and tactical planning. The answer I could give him...

"I abhor death, as you well know. I did what I could to keep as many of your men alive as I could. Would you rather I hadn't done it despite me being able to? To me, it wasn't a question. It was loyalty, and survival for all of us, for Kattegat."

"How did you know how to do that?"

"I just know. It's the same as fighting to you. How do you know where an enemy will strike? Do you have time to think about it? It just happens, and that is what makes you so good. It's instinct."

"Take the house."

"Tell me what you want me to do with it."

"Be amazing." We stared at each other for a good long while, then I couldn't keep it in anymore. I burst out laughing. For all my worries over how Ragnar would get back at me for my insolence, he was now the one who didn't know what to expect from me. I was not just any free woman, I was a potential threat. One with their gods on her side.

"I see you've spoken to the boys about me. I will accept your generous gift, for whatever reason you offered it." Finally, Ragnar let a quiet smile pass his lips. "Just let people come to me with their requests themselves. With a house of my own, I won't have to bother you in your hall when they ask me about things I might know a little about." He looked a little confused for some reason, as if he hadn't expected me to put a demand in with accepting his gift.

"It was a little difficult for them to find you, with your tendency to hide in the shadows. I'm sure that now you have your own house, you will find them coming by every now and then." Ragnar got up and rummaged around the kitchen for a bit, then returned with two horns of ale. He must have put some in there for Floki to drink while he had worked on my house. "Now that you no longer have to fear me, can you answer my questions a bit more freely?" I sat up straight, wondering what he would ask. "Why did you not accept Jarl Borg's offer to free you?"

"I didn't want the boys to die. And somehow I felt like he wouldn't honor his promise to me. It might have been binding if I were a free woman already, but as a slave, I was worth less than a cow. His promise was just too good to be true."

"Yes, you're very observant on these things. Athelstan told me it was you being mistrusting of us, but after more than a year I think it's more than that."

"Siggy will have told you all about it," I mused, seeing Ragnar's face turning pensive.

"What else have you noticed?"

"You've become even more curious about me, and more careful at the same time. Which makes me wonder, just how much do you think I will change now that I've earned my freedom?"

"Only the gods know." Did he imply only I would know, by extension? Just how much power did I wield, with my new title? "Has my patience paid off?"

"What do you expect in return for it? Some kind of advantage, no doubt, but what? More cities I can point out for you to raid? The support of the gods, whatever you will choose to do?"

"The Seer told you that you can choose where you will go." I snorted, realizing just what must have been going on in his mind.

"It did not refer to where I will live." He cocked his head a bit. "He was talking of how I will live my life. I can choose to do good or evil. And now that I have apparently stumbled into this title of Vessel of Freyja, I see how much influence that might give me, if I choose to wield it."

"Then have you made a decision?"

"Can't you figure it out?"

"Someone wise once told me that assumption is the mother of all mistakes."

"I only just got my freedom. Heading out to a different town just when I have the ability to try and figure out what my life will be like is not something I wish to do." Ragnar leaned back, relaxing a bit.

"If there's anything else you need to make this house your home, let me know. It won't do to have you seemingly live in poverty." That would mean having to accept more gifts. Accepting the house was more than enough for one day, for an entire decade.

"I'll make do. There's only so much gratitude I can feel when you gave me back my life and a house in the same week." He must have seen some sense in my words.

"You're right. Ever since I freed you, I've become more curious. Why would the gods, Freyja no less, send you here to change our fate? You didn't speak our language, and you're still a stranger to many of our customs." Ragnar was growing more relaxed with every passing second.

"I don't know, honestly. Perhaps I need to learn things before I will be able to change your fates. I'm not really in a position to say, you know as well as I do how traumatized I am from my previous life. I suppose it'll be a few years until I find out. I need to heal, first." A knowing smile passed his visage. He'd caught on I'd implied I would likely be here for that time.

"Then I will have to be patient for a while longer. I have to say, you are showing a different side of yourself already." I cocked an eyebrow, curious what he'd seen. "For one, you're no longer afraid of speaking freely to me. You know a lot more than you let on before."

"Before I was afraid of incurring your wrath. You held my life in your hand, and now I get to decide where I will go." Ragnar shook his head a little, before taking a large gulp.

"Something tells me you've only started causing trouble for me," he sighed.

"Undoubtedly," I said without blinking an eye. "I still have a long way to go, before I'm healed enough to make any promises as to how I will react to things that may seem mundane to you. I'm just being honest about this, I don't want you to have the wrong idea. I've come a long way since we first met, but I'm by no means recovered enough to build a life for myself without pulling on the wrong threads every now and then."

"You make it sound like I'll have to trust you as if you're an ally."

"Is that not why you try to buy my loyalty and ask me about my future? I might not know what it means to be a Vessel of Freyja, but I can see how much of an advantage it could be to you. If you thought you were being subtle, you suck at it." He shook his head again, then drained his horn.

"Let's get going, Siggy will murder us if we miss dinner."


	32. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10-07-800

I spent a week cleaning the house when I had time, rearranging the scarce furniture, and getting rid of the excessive number of skulls and weapons adorning the walls. It was to be my safe space, where I could be alone and feel at home. Siggy came by to see how I was doing once and insisted I could have some of her old pots and pans, cutlery, and other useful things to be able to live on my own. As I barely had any money, I gladly accepted her charity. I knew she didn't do it out of the bad kind of pity. She cared.

My newfound freedom made me a bit uncomfortable in other aspects, as more than a few men had cast me lustful glances wherever I went. Some went about it a bit more subtly and wanted to ask me for advice on how to approach women. They were terrible at hiding their true intentions. At least I was no longer able to be forced without hefty consequences, which did wonders for my psyche.

On the market, I was finally able to buy things for my own. I ignored the jewelry and fancy horns, instead opting to buy decorations that reminded me of my own time. I also bought new clothes but seeing how pricey the pants were, I decided I could wear dresses for a time longer. They didn't bother me as much as before and actually were pretty warm and easy to clean once I'd gotten the hang of it. The only luxury I allowed myself were a small mirror and some tweezers, and finally I was able to get rid of the bushiness of my eyebrows. Not having been able to shave my legs for almost a year and following the apparent fashion, I didn't feel the need to start again. The one time I tried to shave my armpits resulted in so much bleeding I gave up on that as well.

Some of the merchants offered me their wares free of charge or at a large discount. I didn't need their pity, refusing their charity when they offered. I asked Siggy about this strange behavior as she helped me pack the few possessions I had, not used to the sudden change in their attitudes. The men would leave tomorrow, starting a new part of my life.

"Silly woman, isn't it obvious? They hope to gain your favor."

"What good would that do?" I still didn't understand. I'd been confused about so many things, aside from getting Ragnar to push the house on me I had just let everything slide past me in some sort of trance. Ragnar was someone I knew, that I could understand. Strangers wanting things from me... Just what did they expect from me?

"You are sent by Freyja, are you not? They seek your favor, hoping you will bless them. Did Ragnar not explain? In the forest, three wolves approached you. You have her markings, you carry her fire. Some even whisper she moves through you." Her eyes were big and sincere, she believed what Ragnar had said. In fact, these 'markings' everybody was raving about, were remnants of my old life. A tribute to my favorite TV show, a memory of the two cats that had offered me comfort throughout my childhood, and a heart on fire symbolizing the protection I then thought I'd found to keep me safe.

"Let's assume that is true. I'm not saying it is, but... If that is true, what would that mean?" Siggy chuckled softly, sitting herself down on the bed next to me. She took my hands in hers, probably wondering how I did not know this myself. Floki hadn't taught me much, and he would join Ragnar to Egersund. He was busy with the preparations. With Athelstan still presumed dead, only the words of the Seer promising he was still breathing, I didn't know who to turn to on these kinds of matters.

"Freyja is the goddess of love, beauty, sex, and death. She takes people up to the Great Halls. She can grant women a child, who have been thought barren." At that, her eyes shifted towards me from underneath her lashes. Was she asking me to help her?

"Oh, Siggy... I'm not even sure if this is true, and even if I was, I don't even know how." Did she really expect me to help her conceive, at her age? Had her sons lived, they would have been old enough to have their own children by now, she was at least 40 years old. I didn't want her to get her hopes up.

"Well, I know. Just as sure as you knew your curse had lifted, I know you can help me. I will believe hard enough for the both of us." She placed my hands on her belly. Still not clear on what to do, I dropped to my knees. I put my lips to her stomach, as I had seen the men to do swords during rituals.

"I place my blessing upon you, Siggy. May you be once again filled with seed. May the child be healthy and grow up strong." As I gazed up, Siggy's eyes were full of tears. A radiant smile on her face, I felt a bit embarrassed. I wondered how long her happiness would last, before she would bleed again and be disappointed, perhaps losing hope forever. She should enjoy it for as long as she could, she deserved it. She was like - the way she always... Was this what a sister could be like?

"Well, go on then!" I jumped up and pulled her to her feet. "Go check if it worked, Rollo will be gone tomorrow. No, really. I'll be fine, I'm almost done anyway." Siggy stopped protesting, drying the tears from her eyes, and almost skipped down the hall on her way to Rollo. I returned to the packing, folding my clothes. What had I done?

If this would be expected of me from the many visitors Ragnar had warned me about, I'd have to seriously reconsider my position. I wasn't able to grant women a child or heal their hurts, or any of it. I hardly even knew about the gods, other than the snippets I'd caught when the boys were told of them. Having this power go to my head would be a severe mistake.

"Ragnhild! I have something for you." A cheerful voice called from across the hall, pulling me out of my worrying. A giant pile of furs was bundled up in Helga's arms. "Floki asked me to give these to you. He said he wanted to give you clouds, but this would have to do." If the message seemed strange to her, she did not let on. I took the bundle from her, together spreading it out. I gasped as I recognized the fur. It was from the pelts of the three wolves that had wanted to eat me.

"Have you ever seen such a sleeping fur? I must admit, I am a bit jealous." I took the woman into my arms and hugged her.

"Knowing Floki, you probably did a fair bit of work on them as well, if not most. Thank you so much, I love it." I stroked the fur, noticing it had been freshly brushed. The grey hairs shone in the light of the nearby fire.

"Helga, you already got here." I looked up, seeing Floki walking towards us. "A gift fit for the gods, no?" Giddy as ever, he seemed excited to be included in the action again, even though it was just a visit to the western coast. He even had put on fresh eyeliner, barely a smudge visible.

"It's amazing, I love it so much. Thank you." Ragnar and Aslaug followed closely behind him, walking hand in hand. Floki pulled Helga in a tight hug. No doubt they'd be off for some privacy soon.

"Have you seen Rollo by any chance?" Ragnar asked.

"He's busy," I answered. Knowing Siggy, she would have found him by now. And she would keep him occupied for some time. The thought made me a bit giddy.

"Do you know what he's doing? I need to speak to him."

"He's busy doing Siggy." A scoff came from Ragnar's mouth. He kissed Aslaug and left again.

"May the gods keep us all," he muttered. Helga and Floki left as well after a hug from me thanking them again. Aslaug remained, checking up on Sigurd.

"He sleeps well, I haven't heard him at all today." Aslaug smiled, sitting down on my bed. Her hand stroked the wolf fur.

"It's a glorious house-warming gift," I sighed, acknowledging the craftsmanship put into it. Aslaug seemed unsure what I meant, but let it go.

"Is everything ready?" she asked.

"Just about. I don't have to move much."

"I must admit, I feel strange having so many people leave me at the same time." She sounded troubled.

"They will return. You'll see. They always do."

"But you won't. You have been wonderful with the boys, especially Hvitserk. He told me once you spoke of flying boats that soared through the skies. I don't know how you come up with it." I smiled, already looking forward to tonight for the next part. "Have you given any thought to what you will do now you are free to choose?"

"I have, but I find it difficult. I seem to have no real talent, at least not something useful enough to make a living. I can't hunt or fish, or build things... I don't know anything about healing or the gods. I can hardly do anything. So far, I have spent my time here with learning the language and the customs. I only spent a short time helping Floki, but he's gone soon. After Athelstan - since he is gone, I have mainly looked after the children and helped you." Sad to say, I still often felt hopelessly useless. "Not that I am not grateful for my time here," I added, not wanting to insult Aslaug, "I am happy having worked for you."

"Then maybe we can work something out for a while longer. I am with child again, as is Siggy. We could use some extra help." My eyes went wide. How could she know Siggy was pregnant? I'd only blessed her half an hour ago. "I saw Siggy's child. I am a Seeress," she explained, "I know what you did for her."

"That makes one of us," I sighed. Aslaug had been right about Ragnar rescuing us, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. It didn't ease my mind, thinking my blessing had worked somehow. Now I had a reputation to uphold.

"Perhaps I could teach you a few things. If you keep on as a servant, we'll have plenty of time to talk. And I know the boys would like it, too. Will you please consider it?" I had never liked children very much, but being forced by circumstances to spend time with them, they had grown on me. At the very least it gave me some time to figure something out. Judging by past experiences, having a place to call my own wouldn't necessarily be beneficial. Having a reason to get up in the morning would decrease the chances of me locking myself in and keeping to myself.

"Aslaug, it would be my honor." Sigurd started cooing as if to celebrate. We shared a quiet laugh.

"Come on," Aslaug said, standing up and pulling me to my feet. "We have some celebrating to do." I folded the furs and put them away, following Aslaug. She told me she had a cask of mead somewhere, left from Jarl Borg's invasion that she had been dying to try. I got us two proper wooded cups and sat down on one of the long tables. Sitting across from me, she poured the mugs and we toasted.

"So, tell me," she spoke after two mugs of negotiations, "you have bled recently, even though the curse was lifted some time ago. And I noticed you seem to shy away from the men that try to court you now. Do you not want children? Or do you not know how? Oh, come on, we're friends now, aren't we?" I turned my surprised face into one of indecision.

"I know how sex works, but I'm unfamiliar with how one gets to that point. Many of your ways are still a mystery to me. Then there's the fact I want to be sure he is both willing and able to provide for me and the child, preferably before the sex happens. " Aslaug didn't seem to understand, a frown forming on her face.

"But the father will surely claim the child and provide if needed, why do you doubt that?"

"I want... I want to get to know someone first, spend time with him. Walk in the forest together, talk, getting comfortable around each other. Is that so strange?"

"It sounds like you want to have love."

"Yes, I guess I do. But most of all, I want to feel safe." Happy she understood me, the rush of the mead made me a little bawdier.

"And of course, size matters," I said with a smile. Aslaug got my drift as she saw my fingers drifting slowly apart. "I'm selfish like that, I want it all."

"Why do you say that? Is there something wrong with knowing what you want? As I see it, you're being honest. But I do know that if you don't start opening up more, you will never have to worry about it anyway. For a woman marked by Freyja herself, you seem to lack her sex drive." She had a good point.

"Then tell me, do you happen to know of a strong Viking that can meet all of my honest demands? Any recommendations, so to say?"

"Well, if the father is anything to go by..." She slowly let her fingers drift apart, mimicking my gesture. My eyes went wide again.

"Aslaug! What - but he's your stepson! At least sort of, in a way, why - what?" My cheeks turned red. I started to fidget with my hands, getting more uncomfortable by the second.

"Is this one of those things you don't understand? Why would I not want Bjorn to be happy with a woman like you? Haven't you noticed him looking at you?"

"Everyone's been staring at me lately, how am I supposed to keep track? He gave me back my knives after Jarl Borg was defeated, but other than that..." He was just a kid.

"That's because you seem to find feet more interesting than faces when you walk around. I'm surprised you can still hold your head up high." Having led the conversation away from Bjorn, I dared to press on about the dating habits.

"Where I'm from when you're interested in someone you spend time together. If he's a gentleman, he'll bring you flowers, or chocolate, or something like that. He asks you out, on a date."

"What is a daet?"

"That's when you spend time together, to get to know each other. Like, walking through the forest, or..." I froze up a bit, not knowing what options there even were here. Even when I had time to enjoy myself, I mostly walked through the woods. "Something nice," I decided on.

"So... you expect him to ask you to go to the woods, then he brings you flowers, and you talk?"

"Yes!" Finally, we were getting somewhere.

"And what do you do with the flowers? Are they part of the daet?"

"You put them in a vase. They... brighten up your house. And when you are home, you can smell the flowers and think back on the time you spent with one another."

"That sounds... weird. Why go through all that trouble? It seems kind of complicated and senseless."

"As opposed to how you and Ragnar got together?" Aslaug's eyes narrowed at my comment.

"It was prophesied Ragnar would have many sons." Again with the prophecies. The Seer apparently had access to the Internet, reading everyone's Wikipedia page.

"Any Viking that goes raiding and raping will undoubtedly have many sons if he lives long enough." I immediately regretted my comment. I expected Aslaug to show me she couldn't be hurt, but instead, she showed me she could hurt me as well.

"Is that what you fear? That you will lose your happiness one day to a woman younger and more beautiful than you? Or are you scared of being the other woman, wrecking an unhappy family apart? If you expect to find a man here that won't succumb to lust when he's out raiding, I suggest you warm up to the goats." Ouch...

"I apologize. I went too far." Her eyes calmed down.

"I know you are not known with our ways, you could have come from a different world for all I know..." Her eyes glazed a bit as if remembering something important. Just what had she thought about? After a moment, she continued. "But I strongly urge you to adapt. You are holding back all the time, and you seem so sad when you think no one's watching. But as you said yourself, you can't go back home. It's not easy living here, but at least give it a chance." I sighed. I could only acknowledge her words.

"So tell me. How do I... Give it a chance?"


	33. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-07-800

Only when I was drunk on mead had Ragnar invited me to go with him on the trip to Egersund, which had caught me off guard. After the kindness that was shown to me, I found it hard to say no. The alcohol didn't help either. I'd rather have spent some time getting used to my new house, but it couldn't be helped. All through my life, I had often done things I didn't want to because I was afraid saying no would lead to conflict. But the worst part of the trip was that we'd travel by boat. I was no stranger to seasickness and didn't relish the thought of traveling on a boat far wonkier than those I was used to. As soon as I got on board Ragnar noticed I was not at ease.

"Are you already feeling homesick?" he asked with a grin.

"I don't like boats. I tend to get sick."

"Then why did you come with?" Now that I thought about it, it was a good question. Just a few days ago I'd talked to him honestly, as equals, despite him being an earl. Even worse, I'd manipulated him into being glad I would take the house, just for a little safety and peace of mind.

"Because you asked me to," I sighed, already feeling how the rocking of the boat made me feel uneasy.

"You could have said no."

"You freed me barely a week ago and gave me a house. How was I supposed to say no?"

"Those were gifts freely given. You don't owe me anything." I snorted at that.

"You spared my life when I got here, you didn't treat me badly when I was not even thought of a human being by most, and you made sure I can survive here as a free woman. To me, that's something I owe you for the rest of my life."

"And you helped take care of my family, saved Ubbe's life, and helped keep my family safe when Jarl Borg invaded. To me, that's something I owe you for." When he put it like that, I felt a lot easier as far as the debt was concerned. "You can still get off if you want to. But I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy one of our stops."

"Does that place have cigarettes or chocolate?"

"I don't know what all that is, so probably not. However, we will be passing by the village where you were found." My eyes opened wide at that.

"No way. Are we actually going to stop there?"

"I have some business with the chief. I'd like you to be there for that, but we will probably have some time before the tide is right to leave again." I could visit the old woman that took care of me and finally have a chance to talk to her, properly thank her for all she did for me. Floki had told me what had happened at the Thing, but I still had questions. And during this trip, I would be able to find at least some of them.

"In that case, I'm coming with. I don't care if I vomit out my brains, I want to go visit there."

"I thought you might." With a smile on his face he turned around to start bossing people around.

As the boat took off, I noticed Helga was the only other woman to come with. It made me feel uncomfortable until I realized no one could even try to harm me now I was a free woman. I was protected now, safe.

"What are you afraid of?" Ragnar asked as we moved out of the fjord. "It's not the sea."

"It's nothing. You'd think it silly. I think it's silly."

"And yet you look unsettled. Tell me." He hadn't issued a command but shown concern. Ragnar had an easier time seeing me as a free woman than I did myself.

"Ever since I became a free woman, men have been staring at me," I admitted.

"You're no longer invisible, though you try your best. Do you not like getting attention?"

"Not like this. Too often men have hurt me, and they make me feel uncomfortable now. Especially when they stare at me like that. Just the suggestion made me punch Rollo in the face." I had tried to make light of it, but Ragnar's face grew intent.

"Have men tried to hurt you since I freed you?"

"No. But still..."

"You are afraid it might happen again. I wouldn't worry about it. No man would dare touch you if you do not want it. Not just because you are a free woman, but because you hold the favor of the gods. They lust for you, and fear what you might do to them." That just blew my mind.

"So you're saying they're more afraid of me than I am afraid of them?" That's what my mother used to say about spiders.

"In a sense. Especially since they heard of the blessing you bestowed upon Siggy. They think you're terrifying," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. That was so ridiculous, I had to chuckle.

"I'm not terrifying, I'm just... weird."

"When you talk like that, a little. But mostly you're different. You're new and exciting." I narrowed my eyes a little.

"Are you still talking about the men?" I had somewhat moved past my fear for Ragnar after he had freed me, and we had talked on an equal footing, but now I had my suspicions.

"What are you implying?"

"I think you know that better than me." In response, Ragnar smiled and changed the subject.

"How is it you come from a land I cannot hope to reach but arrived at a lake?" This was an even more dangerous subject than the one before.

"I was swimming at a lake. When I got out, a bird called out and spooked me. I fell and hit my head on some rock. When I woke up, I was here."

"What kind of bird was it?"

"I think it was a crow. From what I saw, it was all black."

"You're not sure?"

"I didn't really have time to see it up close."

"Ravens look very much alike. It is hard to tell them apart if you don't know the difference. And it would make sense since you are the vessel of Freyja. If you ask me, she brought you here." I must have given him quite the look because he started smiling like a maniac. "Is there anything else you can remember?"

"It was a warm day for the time of year, but the sun started shining really bright as I was still swimming. It was starting to set over some mountains, and when I woke up it wasn't even noon. I must have lain in that water overnight. I had a concussion and then got a fever, so I can't really say anything about the first two weeks. At least I think it was two weeks. I was barely conscious. I'm actually hoping to find out more when we get there."

"Let me know if you find out anything. I'm curious as well." Ragnar started to shout some more orders, clearly, our conversation was over. I took the time to admire the fjords we passed. I hadn't seen them before, and they were gorgeous. I spotted deer on multiple occasions, and they looked back to see if we were a threat. At the sight of a mother with her fawn, I squealed in joy. A tiny little Bambi! I looked around, hoping to find someone to share in my enthusiasm. Seeing most men raise an eyebrow, I turned back to sightseeing feeling embarrassed. Did Viking even know the concept of cuteness? Even being an adult, I still loved animals with a childlike exuberance.

"I like them, too," a voice behind me said. I almost jumped up so high I would have fallen off the boat. It was Bjorn, who seemed to enjoy my reaction.

"You scared me," I said, putting a hand on my chest.

"What do you have to be afraid of?" Bjorn asked as he sat down next to me, looking out at the fjords as well.

"Boys sneaking up on me."

"We're on a boat. I couldn't sneak up on you if I wanted to. And I'm a man, not a boy."

"You look barely eighteen. You can't even grow a beard yet."

"I got my arm ring when I was twelve," he said a little defensively.

"So? I got a bracelet when I was five. That didn't make me a woman."

"You do know what an arm ring means right?" I could only smile at that.

"I do. I was just teasing you." He seemed relieved at that.

"And how old are you then, that you still like to pet goats and squeal at the sight of baby deer?"

"You know, where I come from its very rude to ask a lady about her age. But since you're still just a boy, I'll forgive you. I'm 24."

"Is that old enough to be considered a lady where you come from?" The cheek on that guy!

"Alright, alright. I had that coming," I said with a smile. It was nice to be caught up in playful banter again. The women I had been around the last year were mostly too serious and regal for that kind of thing, and most of the time the boys were still too young to understand if I was mocking them.

"My father told me we'll be stopping by the village where you... appeared?"

"I guess that's a good way of describing it. One moment I'm somewhere else, and the next I walk around the forest almost naked not knowing where I am." His ears turned slightly red as if he was picturing me naked. He looked so young and innocent. I didn't feel any real discomfort as I realized what he must have been thinking about.

"I heard you were freed while I was out of town," Bjorn said. Glad to have something to latch onto, I started talking back.

"I was happy with Ragnar's decision as well. Though I have not been unhappy, it is nice to have a say in what happens to me."

"You have only been a slave for a year, yes?" I nodded.

"Just a little over. At first, I was terrified when he told me he could no longer keep me as a slave. I was terrified of what was to become of me." Bjorn laughed.

"My father is not good at breaking news. Almost every time he decided something good would happen to me, I was terrified of what was to come. When he took me to my first Thing, my mother begged him to wait another year. I was terrified of what I had to do there. I was sure I would be marked for life, receiving similar scars to the ones he had back then." I could already imagine the terrifying impression Ragnar might have made on a boy that impressionable.

"My first Thing wasn't much better. I didn't understand what was going on, or what was expected of me. I didn't even speak your language."

"Ragnar told me of it. He was impressed with you, even though he thought you weak at first." I was glad I'd heard Floki's account of that Thing from him, now being able to speak of it better.

"I was. Weak, I mean. I had a lot to learn. Athelstan taught me more than just the language. I am forever indebted to him."

"So am I. At first, I hated that man, talking of a strange god. Ragnar and Lagertha went raiding, and he was left in charge of me and my sister, Gyda. I was such a little brat." There had been a daughter, as well?

"Gyda? I never heard that name before."

"She was my little sister. She died of a plague that wiped out half of Kattegat while I was away with my father." He seemed to find it hard to talk about her.

"I am sorry to hear that. I'm sure she would have been a strong woman, had she lived. With such a strong mother and a brother like you, she would have been a fine shield maiden. She would have made you proud." He seemed pleased by my words, yet still wanted to move on. "Did you know, I was so confused when I came to Kattegat. In my native language, the name means as much as 'cat's asshole'." Bjorn had to laugh out loud at that, his voice echoing against the mountains on our right.

"I heard you were funny, but it's nice to see it for myself." This piqued my interest. Talking to Bjorn was easy, almost like I was speaking to a teenage version of Ubbe and Hvitserk. In a way, he was just that.

"What else have you heard about me?"

"What have you heard about me?" Bjorn countered.

"What haven't I heard about you? You are earl Ragnar's firstborn son, by the famous shieldmaiden Lagertha. Born from such great warriors, you are destined to find fame and glory wherever you decide to go. You went to live with your mother after she divorced Ragnar, and only recently came back. You like to play with your brothers, you don't like carrots, and you prefer a sword over the axe." He seemed impressed.

"How did you know about the carrots?"

"I saw you picking them out of your food and feeding them to the dogs yesterday." He started laughing again. "What you don't know is that the dogs don't like them either and threw them up again." He had the good graces to feel embarrassed about that, knowing I was probably the one to clean it up hadn't I been released.

"I must admit, I don't think I know you as well as you seem to know me."

"Never underestimate what a slave girl knows. No one sees her, yet she sees all."

"But you are a free woman now. You saved my brother Ubbe's life once, you came with Aslaug and her children when Kattegat was attacked. I hardly ever see you without your bag, although I don't know why. You cry over onions, and goats being sacrificed, but not over men who are executed. You broke a curse put on your body, got attacked by wolves, and apparently, you seem to have received markings from Freya. Though I'm not sure about that last one, as I haven't seen them myself. And no one knows where you came from since you don't talk about it all that much. Is it really that different from here?" My face turned pensive, I was wondering what I could and couldn't say. I also noted he knew quite a bit about me, despite his claims.

"The sky is blue, and the grass is green, but... It's mostly the people that are different. When I came here I couldn't understand the language or understand the way of life here. Even if I tried I couldn't begin to explain it."

"Do you ever feel like you want to go back?"

"I'm not sure. I miss a lot of the things we had, but my life was pretty miserable. Sometimes I don't even remember what it is I miss."

"Don't you have anything to remind you of that place?"

"I do," I said as I grabbed for my satchel and got out my diary. It was horribly disfigured by now, the pages frayed and yellowed, the binding cracked and getting loose. "This is my err... I used to write in it, a lot. It got wet when I was unconscious in the lake." I handed it to Bjorn, who didn't seem to know what to make of it. He tried to read some of the writing, but it was obvious he was just doing it for show.

"Can you read this?"

"Not anymore, it's too faded. I can make out some of the words. Look, this one here means 'day'. And that one means 'sun'."

"What did you write about?" I sighed at that.

"About what had happened during the day." What I'd felt, the failures I had come across, the memories that haunted me, my nightmares...

"Every day? Don't you just remember?"

"No one can remember every day of their life. I liked how you can see what's important to me, what I was thinking about, even years later."

"You wrote every day in this for years?" His eyes went wide.

"Not just this book. This is volume 21."

"Volume?"

"Like... edition. This is the 21st book I wrote in. I used to write a lot. Now I keep it with me for sentimental reasons. It's a keepsake more than anything else."

"21? You must have been very rich to afford that much paper." I laughed at that.

"Not at all. You could get these anywhere. They cost about as much as four loaves of bread." Bjorn's astonishment only grew.

"And the ink?"

"Even cheaper. About a quarter loaf, and it would last for two to three books."

"How about swords?"

"I don't know. I never saw one getting sold. Somewhere between 80 and 200? Maybe more if it's a fancy one."

"That's about the same, I think."

"I never saw a sword until I came here. Not a real one. Neither did I see axes or shields. I did see some spears, but those were just for sport, to see who could throw them the farthest."

"I believe you, but I have a hard time imagining how such a land would look. How would you even defend it?"

"We didn't have to. We were friendly with all of our neighboring countries and their neighbors."

"You didn't have wars?"

"There were some, but they were far away. There were a few big ones a few decades past, but none in my lifetime."

"You must have known powerful gods, then, to make a country that peaceful." My face dropped at that.

"There was a god, but I hated him. People would do all sorts of things in his name, which he shouldn't have allowed to happen. You can't say one thing, and then do another."

"Even the gods are fallible, but... The way you talk of him, that doesn't sound like a god to me."

"I believed in him when I was little because I didn't know any better. But as I grew up and started to think for myself, I lost my faith in him."

"What god do you believe in now? Ours?"

"I'm very skeptical," I said, hoping to leave it at that. Discussing religion was not one of my favorite pastimes, nor had I had the best of experiences talking about it since I came here.

"That's not an answer."

"Do you want me to answer?"

"Do you?" Bjorn countered. He must have realized I was still a bit unaccustomed to not having to listen to such commanding questions, even if they were put in a friendly tone.

"Not really." We remained silent for a while, staring at the landscape that now had turned into a coastline. I cast a curious glance at the boy sitting beside me. He didn't seem so much bothered or confused as he looked pensive, as if trying to make sense of me. I couldn't sense any judgment, either.

"Where did you grow up, after you left with Lagertha?"

"We traveled around a bit at first, then took a boat to Denmark. We ended up in Ribe, where the earl soon fell in love with my mother. I didn't like it there, my step-father was an abusive cunt." I actually had visited Ribe once, when I had visited my twin brother in Denmark.

"My father was an abusive cunt as well. I know how bad it can be." We shared a knowing smile.

"I won't miss living there, but I will miss my mother."

"Lagertha went back?"

"Yes, she only came because Ragnar needed help. I went with her to collect my things, then came back. What about your family?"

"Abusive cunt father, a mother who decided to ignore it, and a brother who fled the house before me. He went to another country to learn how to be a healer. After I left my parents I never went back. I saw my brother a couple of times, but we had a big fight when I last saw him. I don't really miss any of them."

"Yet you sound sad when you talk about them."

"I miss what a family is supposed to be like. I must admit I feel a bit jealous when I see you playing with the boys or talking to Ragnar. I'd like to have had that when I grew up."

"You're jealous of me because of that?" Bjorn couldn't really believe it.

"We all want what we can't have."

"Is that why so many men talk about you?" That made me snort.

"They don't talk to me, so I wouldn't know. Ragnar seems to think they are afraid of me, as if I could do something to them if they tried."

"Well, you do have some strange tales surrounding you. No one knows where you came from, you were cursed in a way that your dick would fall off if someone dared to touch you, and now it turns out the gods have sent you here and Freyja has given you her blessings." I could only shake my head.

"You make me sound like a mysterious woman, indeed. But you don't seem to be afraid of me."

"That's because I know you cry when you cut vegetables, and when a goat gets sacrificed," he said with a grin. "I figured what I know about you is more important than what I heard about you." That was a very nice thing for him to say, though I knew he wouldn't understand if I told him that. We continued talking until Bjorn had to take a shift rowing.

I took out my diary again and started leafing through it. Knowing what it had once said I could make out some of the words and catch the general idea. It made me sad to know I once felt like that. If I would write in it tonight, I'd talk about what Ragnar had said, and how I thought Bjorn would be a great friend one day. Despite his young age, he seemed very mature. With a vastly lower life expectancy, he had to.


	34. Back to the Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-07-800

When we arrived at the village I was first brought to, I saw how small it was, even compared to Kattegat. Having been in major cities such as Barcelona, Paris, and Berlin, the sight of it made it seem a poor excuse for a harbor of any kind. Ragnar insisted I came along to meet the head of the village with him, though I didn't understand why. Bjorn came with us as well, being Ragnar's son. The chief seemed pleased to see me again, introducing himself as Wilfrid. He reminded me of a jolly dwarf, despite him still being larger than me. He guided us to the hall. I could recognize it, but it seemed a lot less intimidating than before. Compared to the hall in Kattegat, it looked like a barn. This time, however, I was to stand on the dais. A man was brought in, barely looking better than I had when I was brought here.

"Ragnhild, this man claims to be brought here by the gods as well," Wilfrid said. "However, we have reason to doubt his claims. We were hoping you might be able to figure out if he speaks the truth." I glanced at Ragnar, whose face betrayed nothing.

"How would I be able to do that?"

"I leave that up to you." Getting thrown into the deep like this, I was unsure of how to proceed. The man stared at me intently but didn't seem to be afraid as I had been. He held out a hammer on a chain, as if to ward us all off. Any person brought back from the future, even centuries before I had lived, would be scared to death at what had been happening. I raised an eyebrow at his expression, which caused him to lower his eyes. I saw how Wilfrid would doubt his story, as his reaction to this situation was so much different from mine. I wasn't sure how I felt about it, either.

"Has he spoken?" I asked. "At all?"

"Only gibberish. Even you managed to call me father once while you were sick." I turned to him.

"Was that you? I could swear I was having a nightmare." I turned back to face the man again. "But I think you're right to doubt his story. I couldn't understand the language or the customs, but I knew being here was serious. He seems to lack any form of reaction, but I want to be sure before I make a decision."

"That's why you're here." I moved towards the man, sinking down to his level. He held onto the hammer tightly.

"Are you here by accident? Do you speak English?" I softly said in English. He just stared at me, almost begging with his eyes.

"Vous parlez Francais? Espagnol? Italiano? Nederlands? Deutsch?" No response. Seeing he was a white male, those were pretty much all the options I could ask that were within my skills. Switching back to Norse, I asked him a more important question. "I want to help you, but you have to give me something. What are you afraid of?"

"Deutsch?" he asked with a heavy accent.

"Guten Tag mein Freund, wie geht's dir?"

"Geht's dir." He didn't understand a word I was saying.

"Deine Mutter ist eine Schlampe."

"Freund." He was trying to bullshit everyone. I stepped back.

"He's full of shit," I said. "I told him his mother was a slut, and he called me friend as if I were a man." The man started protesting at my words, only furthering my case. "And even if he did speak that language, he'd have responded to the others sooner."

"How many languages do you know?" Bjorn asked.

"If I include Norse it's four, and I know how to call for ale in seven more." I wasn't sure what this whole thing was about, but Ragnar seemed pleased enough.

"Well, that settles it. Thank you, Ragnhild," Wilfrid said with a curt nod.

"You can go to the lake if you want, but bring someone with you. I'm sure you can borrow some horses from Wilfrid." Ragnar looked at Wilfrid, who nodded again. He signaled a man to see to it.

"Glad I could help," I smiled. Bjorn walked outside with me, no doubt wondering about the lake as well.

"You do not remember me, do you?" The man who would ready our horses seemed very excited to be talking to me. I looked up at him but didn't recall meeting him before. "My wife and I were the ones who found you." My eyes opened wide with shock.

"Was that you? I guess thanks are in order. I had hurt my head and was completely unaware I had been brought here. Sorry for throwing up on you..." I heard Bjorn chuckle, but I ignored him. The fact I could ignore him gave me a great sense of freedom.

"It matters not," he said with a sense of pride. "Though I would like to ask you for a favor. My wife would like to speak to you if that's alright." I looked at Bjorn, who gave an encouraging nod. Having him with me as a guide of sorts already proved useful.

"I'd love to. I'm curious as to how I got here and was hoping to find some answers." We followed the man to the stables to get two horses, then followed to his house. His name was Darragh, he told us, and his wife was called Greet. They had two sons who had died on the last raid west, his daughter was married to a man in Denmark, and his mare had just given birth to a foal. Hearing him talk like that, I was surprised he had not spoken when I had first met him. After five minutes we arrived at his house, which he barged in calling his wife.

"Greet! You'll never guess who's here! Look! She agreed to come visit us!" Their house was larger than mine, with a few screens and cloths to provide some privacy. It made for a cozy atmosphere if you managed to look past the skulls and weapons.

Greet came bursting from behind one of the screens and hugged me tightly. I was unprepared for such a welcome, and patted her on the back a few times, feeling highly uncomfortable.

"Gods, you're here! Inside our house! Ragnhild, it is such an honor to meet you again. I am so sorry for not recognizing you for what you are, you are truly a godsend! Would you like some ale? Darragh, go get our guests some ale! Please, sit down, do you want to stay for dinner? It is such an honor to have you here, I'm sure we'll be the envy of the town!" I didn't know how to respond. I just sat down, took the horn of ale, and smiled awkwardly at Bjorn. I already felt like I needed to be rescued.

"I'm afraid we can't stay long," Bjorn said. "We want to visit the lake before we have to leave again. But Ragnhild has some questions you might be able to answer." The pair sat across from us at the table, eyes wide in anticipation.

"You have a lovely home," I said. All the questions I had thought of had disappeared from my mind.

"Oh, wait!" Greet called out. "Darragh, hold my horn, I have to give it to her before I forget!" She got up and disappeared behind a screen, only to re-emerge with a package in her hand. "This is yours!" she clamored in glee.

"You shouldn't, I don't need any gifts," I said, embarrassed with what was going on already.

"No, I mean it's yours! That strange cloth you came in, I washed it and kept it safe for you. I figured you might want it back someday, I just knew we'd get to meet again. Selby was certain of it." I couldn't believe it. I took the cloth off the package and saw the big towel I had wandered around in over a year ago. Compared to other fabrics, it was almost blindingly white, like snow. My eyes went wide as I touched the fabric. It was such a tangible proof of what had happened to me. I really had come from another time and place.

"Thank you so much," I breathed. "I never thought I'd see it again." Bjorn touched it too, never having seen such cloth.

"It's so soft," he murmured.

"It's from my homeland. We use it to dry ourselves off after a bath or swimming." Fabric softener, another thing to put on my list of things I missed.

"You went swimming in the lake? At that time of year?" Darragh looked amazed.

"When I got in the water it was pleasant, but when I got out I was here. I hurt my head and went looking for help when I came across the two of you."

"We must have scared you to death! We heard you didn't speak Norse and were unaware that you were even brought here."

"That's true. I thought I was still at home, but only at the Thing where I met Ragnar did I realize I wasn't there anymore. I was sure someone was playing a prank on me, I mean, who just disappears from one place and then appears somewhere else? I was terrified. But I was wondering, did something strange happen at the lake when I got here? Or did you find something strange near the lake?" Talking of how I'd gotten here had jogged my memory, reminding me of the questions I had.  
  
"No, we only found you. We thought you were an English spy, Darragh recognized some of the words you spoke," Greet told me. "We didn't go looking near the lake, but no one else found something as strange as that cloth." The plastic bottle hadn't come with. That would've been hard to explain.

"There was something strange with the forest," Darragh said as he stroked his beard. "Usually they're packed with crows, but the night before there were ravens flying everywhere." Oh shit. Ragnar would have a field day with this. "I should have recognized it for what it was, and now knowing what was going on..."

"I understand how that may only be clear now," Bjorn said pensively. "The gods give us many signs, but they don't always make sense right away." The pair nodded in understanding. I just took a big gulp of ale, allowing the others to bask in their coping mechanism.

"What happened to the old woman who took care of me? I'd like to thank her for what she did for me."

"Selby died this winter." What bothered me most was the deadpan way Greet had said it. The way she talked of Selby, they had been friends.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Despite not having spent much time with her awake, the news saddened me.

"Don't worry about her. She led a wonderful life and understood how you felt. She'd often tell us we hadn't seen the last of you, and she turned out to be right. Actually, she told me to give you something, should I ever see you again." More gifts? Greet was already getting it for me.

"Oh, I'm not sure if I should... Having this back already means the world to me." Bjorn just threw me a smirk, seeming to enjoy my discomfort.

"No, we insist. She gave it to us for safekeeping, it's yours by right," Greet said from behind the screen. "She was very secretive about it, covering it up as soon as anyone approached. Thinking back now, she must have known who and what you are." No doubt Selby had seen my tattoos while taking care of me, how stupid of me not to realize that sooner. "Never told a soul, just went door to door to convince everyone you couldn't die yet. You were important, and if we killed you, we'd kill part of ourselves. She really had a flair for the dramatic if you ask me. Ah, here it is. I'm dying to find out what it is, but you can't really deny a dying woman her last wish, now can you?" Darragh tapped his thumb to his fingers as if his wife was being too chatty. I had to smirk at the hypocrisy. I turned the smirk into a smile as Greet returned with yet another package.

"This is the last one, right? No more gifts after this?" Unwrapping it, I saw it was a beautiful blanket, very large and made with vibrant colors. I had to get up to spread it out across the table. I wasn't the only one who was awestruck. I had seen weavings of beautiful designs, but this one told a story.

A winged woman rose from a lake, with hair like mine and a beautiful white dress that fell down in strips around her legs. With one arm she held a book to her chest, and with the other held up a small sword or a blade. On the sides were intricate designs that probably meant more to the rest than to me. I noticed a tree in the background, where a black bird sat perched on a branch. It was the story of how I had appeared here but heavily romanticized.

"Was the woman a Seeress?" Bjorn asked, first to tear his eyes away.

"She always seemed to know things, but never spoke of the future."

"That doesn't make sense," I countered. "Everyone knew I came here with a book and a knife and arrived at the lake. I don't believe the gods had anything to do with it."

"Then how do you explain the ravens?" Darragh asked abhorred.

"She must have realized the ravens were acting weird before you did."

"Ragnhild tends to look for anything but the gods to explain things," Bjorn said to the pair in a comforting tone. "She still not accepts the gods have brought her here."

"But with all the signs... Surely, even a blind man would see this is true," Greet said with a look of surprise. "Selby must have spent a fortune on making this." This made me feel wildly uncomfortable.

"It's beautiful," I said, hoping to relieve some of the tension that was building. "I will treasure it always."

"But the gods..." Darragh tried again.

"Ragnhild didn't know about our gods when she came here," Bjorn tried to placate the pair. "She is still getting used to their stories and might. Floki is teaching her. Thank you for your hospitality and the gifts, but we should be going now if we still want to make it to the lake." He got up, and I followed his lead. I folded the blanket back up and took it in my arms, shoving it in my bag. It only barely fit, leaving me to carry the towel in my arms.

"It's been lovely to see you both again, thank you so much for all that you've done for me," I said hurriedly.

"Just follow the road out of the village to get to the lake. Can't miss it," Darragh said. As the door closed behind us, Bjorn turned around to face me.

"What were you thinking? Father might accept you don't believe in our gods, but others are not so forgiving." His sudden anger made me respond in kind. I was a free woman now and could do whatever I pleased.

"What was I supposed to do? Lie to them?"

"Yes!" Bjorn got on a horse and kept talking about how dumb I'd been telling strangers I don't believe in the gods. "What are you waiting for?" he asked after a minute. "Don't you want to see the lake?"

"I don't know how to."

"What do you mean? Darragh just told us how to get there."

"I've never ridden a horse before."

"What?"

"You heard me." I stroked the mare over her head, refusing to make the situation awkward.

"Well, you start by getting on it." I gave him a dirty look but did as he said. It only took me three attempts, despite my dress. He sighed as he put a hand to his face.

"Honestly, how you've managed to survive for this long..."

"And now what?" I asked, bulling through. I held onto the reins for dear life.

"You put your heels to its flank." I did as Bjorn said, but instead of a gentle walking pace, the horse darted off. "Gently!" Bjorn called after me. I tried to stay on the horse by clinging to its neck, feeling tears in my eyes from the speed we were going. I screamed as I left the village, storming down the road. The horse was heading straight for a tree, but as I tried to duck away to the right, bracing for the collision, the horse moved to the right as well.

This was just like steering on a snowboard. I knew how to do that. Leaning back a little, grabbing hold of the reins and lightly pulling, the horse slowed down a bit. It had been well trained. This was actually fun!

I leaned forward again, now hooting out of joy. Looking back, I saw Bjorn trying to catch up. I didn't dare look back too long, though. Facing forward again, I raced on, laughing as the horse pushed on. The wind snapping at my hair, the rush of how fast I was going... I felt alive for the first time since I got here.

"What are you doing!" Bjorn shouted as he almost caught up to me.

"This is fun!" I shouted back.

"You're insane!"

"I know!"

"Slow down!" I didn't want to, but I pulled the reins towards me, sitting back a bit. As Bjorn matched my pace, I could see he was furious.

"What were you thinking? You could have fallen off and broken your neck!" His ears were bright red, making them stand out even more than before. "Do you have any idea how much danger you were in!"

"But once I knew what to do, it was fun, and I wanted to go faster." This kid was trying to chide me, making me want to go against him no matter what he said.

"You don't even know how to get on a horse, why would you think you know how to ride?"

"Because it's just like -" Was there even a word for snowboarding? "Something at home," I finished.

"If you ride a horse that hard, it'll get hurt. Just because you know how to make the horse move right and left doesn't mean you know how to do it right." Sighing, I yielded. I didn't want the horse to get hurt.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just missed the feel of wind through my hair." He seemed a little surprised I apologized for my reckless behavior. He sat up straight, trying to act like he was the alpha. I had to try hard to contain a snicker.

"At least you rode off in the right direction," Bjorn muttered, glancing at my barely contained smile. "I can already see the lake."

"Is it really that close? I must have wandered off in the wrong direction. I think I walked around for hours before I met someone." I caught sight of the sunlight reflecting on the water. Over the years, the lake would barely change. As we got to the edge, we got off and let the horses rest after their exercise.

"So, this is it, huh?" Bjorn asked.

"I guess so. I think I woke up over there, right before the reed."

"Is it weird being back here?"

"It's... a bit of a disappointment. It's not like I remember much."

"Do you want to walk around for a bit? We still have plenty of time." I bit my lip, thinking it wouldn't bring me anything. With the lake itself being such a disappointment, the environment wouldn't bring me much more.

"I'd rather go swimming," I decided.

"Swimming?"

"Yeah. It has been ages since I swam in fresh water. I hate still finding salt in my hair three days later. The last time was actually here. And I've got a towel, so why not? It's a nice day." I started unlacing my dress, which seemed to unnerve Bjorn.

"You want to get naked?" I snorted as I kept undressing.

"No, are you insane? I've got underclothes on." I kicked off my shoes and put them besides the towel and blanket.

"That's not much better."

"Where I come from, swimming in this would be considered prudish. What, are you afraid of a little skin?" I shook my hips around a bit to get the dress over my head without lifting up the underskirt. My breasts were bound in cloth, which was usually only done by female warriors, but with the money I had gotten this had been one of my best purchases, though it had taken me a few hours to get the hang of it.

"Come on, are you going to join me or not?" I walked up to the edge and felt the temperature of the water with my toes. It felt a bit cold, but not so much it was unpleasant. Going further into the water, my underskirt was soaking wet in seconds. It mostly served to keep the top layer of the dress clean and didn't do much in sense of isolation. As the water reached my thighs I dove in, swimming underwater for a bit. The skirt made it difficult to do anything other than moving my legs up and down. As I came up again, Bjorn was following me into the water. He had taken off his shirt, but his breeches were still on.

"Come on, slowpoke!" I couldn't reach the bottom of the lake with my feet, so I kept myself upright by trying to kick my legs around. As a foot got stuck in the hem I disappeared under water again, hastily pulling the skirt back up. Bjorn's concerned face when I got to the surface again was priceless.

"Ragnhild! I thought you disappeared again!" I laughed at that, splashing water in his direction.

"Why would the gods bring me here, only to take me away again?"

"I don't know. You're the godsend, not me." I rolled my eyes.

"I hate that word." Bjorn had almost reached me.

"Why? It made you a free woman, and you get to go swimming in lakes now."

"It has its perks, but it's not like I did anything for it. It was just handed to me."

"Does that make it worth less?"

"It does to me. If you're handed something, it can be taken away just as easily. If you earn it, it's yours to keep."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it."

"I hear that a lot, lately. It's so weird to have everyone pay attention to what I say all of a sudden. It's like I didn't exist before, and now suddenly I do."

"Was it really that bad?" Bjorn's voice had softened.

"You were one of the few that actually treated me like a human being. I didn't always mind, like when I got to take care of your brothers or went to feed the goats. And that curse came in handy. After I saved Ubbe my life definitely improved."

"I remember that," Bjorn mused. "It was so weird to come home from a raid and hear what had happened just minutes before. It was lucky you were there." Just how long had I known Bjorn, without knowing?

"I didn't even notice you were there. I was terrified Ragnar would punish me for being so careless. The things Ubbe swallowed that caused it were in my bag. I shouldn't have left them in there where Ubbe could find them."

"He should've known better than to take them from your bag. And not to eat anything he doesn't know. You sound like you still feel guilty about it."

"I do. I had to crack his ribs to keep him from dying. He was in so much pain..."

"I think he'd rather have cracked ribs than be dead."

"You Viking always see stuff so black and white. It's either wrong or right, good, or bad... You just don't know subtlety."

"Coming from the woman who went from slave to godsend, who screams when her horse suddenly takes off, then starts hooting, and hates to see a goat slaughtered, but then gets a guy -" Bjorn fell silent before he finished his sentence.

"I got a guy what?" An eerie feeling took hold of me. Was he referring to that man I had to talk to? "I got a guy what, Bjorn? What happened to that man?" His silence told me everything I needed to know. I didn't want to look at him anymore. I turned around and swam off. With my head in the water, I was able to close off the world. Had my judgment led to that man's death? I should have done more. He could have any number of reasons for not understanding the languages I spoke. He could have come from a future even farther than mine, or be raised in a different country, or any other reason. Had I known his life was in the balance...

No, it wasn't my fault. Ragnar and Wilfrid wanted to hear my opinion, and I had given it to them. They were the ones who had decided to kill him. I didn't know, how could I have known? If that man had lied about being sent by the gods, and that was reason enough to get him killed...

Only now the gravity of what had happened at Darragh and Greet's hit me. Just because some people accepted me and my dislike for religion did not mean the rest of the Viking world did. I was still in a dangerous place and being a free woman did not mean I could do as I pleased. I stopped swimming and turned around. I was so angry at myself for not realizing all of this sooner. Wanting to get all my rage out, I swam back butterfly style. I pushed through the fatigue, punishing myself for my own stupidity.

Years of swimming competitively came in handy, as I still knew the technique, even though my muscles were no longer used to the strain. By the time I couldn't go on anymore, I was almost able to stand. I saw Bjorn sitting on the grass already, arms on his knees as he looked at me. I ignored his gaze and got out of the water, taking the skirt up to my knees to try and wring the worst of the water out. The towel still worked like a charm compared to the cloths I'd had to use here. I offered it to Bjorn out of courtesy, but he declined. As I put my dress back on, he stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. We remained silent as we got on our horses and rode back to the village. Only when the first houses came back into sight, Bjorn spoke up.

"What was that, when you came back to the shore?"

"I was swimming."

"I have never seen anyone swim like that." I snorted.

"Back home, we swim all kinds of ways. We're surrounded by water, so everybody learns. At the end of Yol, we go swimming in the sea."

"But it's freezing cold then."

"That's the whole point of it. We wash away what has happened in the past year and begin fresh. When we get out we can get dirty during the next."

"That makes no sense. Your year starts in the middle of winter?"

"To you, it might not. To me, it doesn't make sense to kill a man for telling a lie about the gods."

"That's not all there is to it."

"It is to me."

"You sound really black and white." I hated it when people used my own words against me. We got off the horses and brought them back to the stable. Holding my wet towel in my hands, I walked past a chopping block with what seemed to be fresh blood. No doubt he had been dealt with swiftly. As Bjorn and I got on the boat, Ragnar was already waiting for us.

"How was it?" he asked me.

"Refreshing," I just said. "Enlightening."

"What did you learn?"

"See for yourself," I said as I unfolded the blanket. "The woman who nursed me back to health made it for me. She has passed away, but the woman who found me in the woods has kept it for me. Her husband told me the ravens had been acting weird the night I was unconscious in the lake." Ragnar studied the blanket, looking at the details.

"Do you know what it says here?" he said, pointing at the runes.

"No."

"It says what Wilfrid told me when you were at the lake. If it is true you were at the lake for a night, you arrived at Valisblot." That name vaguely sounded familiar. "It's on the 14th of February." My eyes narrowed at that.

"I know what date I arrived here. Why would it matter?"

"What does that date mean to you?" Ragnar shifted his weight a bit, leaning on one leg as he eyed me.

"It's the date I stabbed my father and left. In my homeland, it's a holiday for celebrating the love you share with your partner."

"Do you not find that curious?"

"It only means our countries share a holiday on the same date. I chose that date for reasons of my own. You know what I meant to do." I took the blanket back and folded it again, a bit sloppily this time.

"You still deny that the gods brought you here?"

"I learned how dangerous that can be today."

"Did Bjorn tell you?"

"He misspoke, and I could draw my own conclusions from there."

"I think it tells a lot, how calmly you reacted to it."

"What else was I supposed to do? Lie in the lake for a night and hope I'd be brought back? I think it's more telling that you trusted my judgment and took a man's life based on it. Did I pass your test?" He got a twinkle in his eye. For just a second, I hated his guts. He was acting as if it had just been something to check off a list, not caring about the fact a man had died because of him. How could he be so ruthless? Then I remembered this wasn't my time, and Ragnar was a ruthless man, to begin with.

"You did."

"When will the next one be? In Egersund?"

"Get some rest. You look tired." I went back to my spot on the backside of the boat and sat down. I hung the towel over the edge of the boat, letting it dry. I saw Bjorn talking to Floki and Ragnar, no doubt discussing what I had done today. I closed my eyes, wanting to ignore all things Viking around me. Right now, I wasn't sure if I wanted to remain in this world.


	35. Ragnar's Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15-07-800

I had to be wary if I was to gather information on why we were traveling to Egersund. Knowing why we were going there would give me an advantage for Ragnar's next test, but if I made it too obvious Ragnar would know I cared about it. I tried to wheedle some out of Bjorn and Floki, but Helga turned out to be a goldmine. She was happy to talk to me if I threw in titbits of how strange my time was to her. She raveled at the sight of the blanket, taking in the detail and the mysteries buried in it.

"You don't seem impressed by it like the rest of us is," Helga said.

"Where I come from, we have clothes and cloth in more colors than you can imagine. We can buy it very cheap, we hardly make it ourselves."

"Well, here a thing of beauty like this is priceless. Just think of how Selby must have dyed every single strand, weaved it in, probably made mistakes she had to correct. I can hardly find any."

"I just can't fathom why she would make something like that for me. I hardly spoke to her, I just lay on some furs while I was too sick to talk or stay awake."

"It will make a great addition to your home. I enjoy going there, it's so much different from the other homes in Kattegat. Like a shrine to the world."

"You think I'd hang this up for display? It's a blanket with my face on it. That's just creepy. I love the design, and I appreciate how much time and effort and money Selby obviously has put in, but... Would you like to see a wooden sculpture of your head every day? Just look at the detail. I'll find a proper place for it, but hanging it on the wall... To me, that seems very vain."

"Ah, so that's what's bothering you. I know how you always seem to hate attention, and somehow feel like you are worth less than others. I don't see why you would think that. Being the vessel of Freyja, if anything, you are worth more than all of us." Judging by all the attention I'd been getting lately, she wasn't the only one to think that.

"Worth more than you? I think that it would be a great step in the right direction to think of you as my equal, first."

"How many vessels do you know? You're rare." I snickered at that.

"And how many Helga's do you know? How many earls like Ragnar?"

"There are plenty of women like me. As for Ragnar... He might be one of a kind, but he's not the only earl out there, as you must know." Just what I had hoped she would say.

"How many earls are there, exactly?"

"Jarl Borg is an earl of sorts, it's just a different name for the same title. You must have heard of earl Jörgenson of Ribe, who is now married to Lagertha, and we're headed for earl Arvid of Egersund now. I don't know how many there are, as much as there are earldoms I suppose." That still left me wondering on the total number. There must have been quite a few if they covered all of the lands of Scandinavia, but I could see the sense of needing a stretch of land by the sea for trading and raiding.

"How come none of them is like Ragnar?" Helga smiled at my innocence.

"Because Ragnar saw something in you and let you live. Because he spared Rollo's life where others would have killed him. Because he dared to go west when everyone said it was impossible." Then this earl Arvid was either mediocre and just not that exceptional and this was a courteous visit among friends, stupid to elicit a response from Ragnar or a threat that needed to be dealt with. If it was one of the first two, Ragnar only meant to test me and keep up relations. If Arvid was a threat, Ragnar would have more reasons than one to undertake this trip. Looking at the rest of the ship, I noticed there were quite a few men who looked to be experienced fighters. And Ragnar was anything but dumb, or sentimental. For now, I would assume Arvid was a threat.

"Tell me, what do you see when you look in that looking glass of yours?" That question caught me unprepared.

"I see a woman who is still very much confused by this place I appeared in. Someone who tries to find her way and is very uncertain of a lot of things."

"Someone who is still unsure about herself," Helga added. "What I see when I look at you is a woman who is very smart, who knows a lot and is very beautiful. You may still find our customs strange, but I have noticed you seem to embrace them a little more each day. Becoming a free woman has changed you already, but give it some time. You'll start to live soon, and not just survive."

"Thank you, Helga, that's really sweet of you to say," I said with a genuine smile. Helga had always seemed a bit strange to me but in a good way. She made me feel accepted in a way others couldn't. Spending so much time with a person as cracked as Floki, she had to be a little cracked herself.

By the time night fell, Ragnar came to sit next to me.

"What have you learned?" he asked. Of course, he knew I had been talking to people, and not just about the weather.

"This earl Arvid is a threat to you, though I don't know why. You don't need me to take care of him, but you do want to see how I'll be able to handle myself. You haven't told me anything about him, so you want to find out if I'm able to discern it for myself. But let me tell you this, I won't become one of your playthings to drag out in front of others to use to your advantage."

"That sounds like you want to live, and not just survive." Had he talked to Helga before, or after the conversation, we had earlier today? Knowing how shrewd he was, probably both. Still, Ragnar was a source of information as well, saying as much with words as without.

"You assume I'll help you, because of what I said earlier. That is a choice of how I want to live, but knowing what might happen if I don't accept the role the gods have apparently given me, it might as well be for survival. Then it's only a question of how well I'll survive. If I keep passing your tests, I'm sure my life will be all the more pleasant."

"You have learned to speak rather eloquently, this past year."

"I've always had a way with words. Before, I just didn't know how to make you understand the words that already were in my heart." He chuckled, undoubtedly realizing I'd held back on voicing my opinions ever since he first saw me.

"What else is in your heart?"

"Your sons," I said, thinking of the boys back home. "Kattegat, and the hope to build a life there. What's in yours? What do you hope to achieve in this life?"

"That's an interesting question. Why do you ask it?" Because knowing what a man wants more than anything in life gives you power over him.

"How can I help you achieve it if I don't know what you're working towards?" He raised his head, looking around pensively.

"I want to reach new places. I want to explore and raid, find new places for our people to settle down and make our lives better."

"That's not all," I said, remembering more than a few late night talks he had with his friends while he thought everyone else was asleep. "You want fame. You want your name to be known for a thousand years, and you'll always want more. If you think about it, what would be enough? What would satisfy you?" He smiled at me.

"Right now, I want you to be prepared." I had been right. Ragnar lusted for more, no matter how much he already had. More plunder, more sons, more fame. "Earl Arvid thinks he has a claim over you, as you appeared closer to him than you did to Kattegat."

"And that makes him a threat because I'm such a rare commodity."

"You don't seem to think so yourself."

"You know how to use that to your benefit. It's an advantage because I'll be more loyal to you, knowing you and not this earl Arvid. And it's a disadvantage because I might take more risks than you are comfortable with. You're here talking to me to assess how much risks I'd be willing to take. But what could this earl offer me you can't? Do you know if he'll propose to me, or wants me to marry one of his sons, thinking I'm after what most women want? Or does he want me to swoon at the luxuries he'll put on display, thinking to buy my loyalty as if I'm some common whore?" Ragnar let out a chuckle.

"I knew there was more to you than just a pretty face, but it's nice to see that for myself." He had heard enough to feel confident about the meeting tomorrow. He knew what I wanted in life, and that I knew how to ask the right questions. It irked me that he'd used the same words as Bjorn had earlier, about wanting to see things for himself, but I didn't know why. "Get some rest. We'll be there tomorrow."


	36. Ketchup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-07-800

Standing before earl Arvid, I could see how he had come to power. The skin I could see was mottled with scars, some an angry dark red, others smooth and silvery. He wore a loose shirt with the lacing untied, showing off his massive chest. Comparing him to Ragnar, it was easy to spot the differences. Where Ragnar was smart, Arvid was strong. Ragnar was well mannered, believing diplomacy to be important, where Arvid got by on intimidation. Arvid tried to cover it for the sake of appearances, but the rough edges were still very much visible.

"I was sorry to hear of the passing of your second wife," Ragnar said.

"She died in childbirth, which is a good death for a woman, I suppose," he responded. "It's been some moons though, and I've been looking for the right woman to stand beside me." I wanted to roll my eyes but refrained. "But there are more important things than my late wife. I am very curious about the vessel of Freyja I heard so much about. She's supposed to be lovelier than the forest in spring, and shine brighter than the sun." That was quite the description.

"Here she is," Ragnar said as he looked behind him, extending his hand. I took a step forward, trying to steel my nerves. "She can be a bit shy at first, but I promise you the tales have not been exaggerated." Arvid only now looked at me, stepping forward and taking my hand to kiss me on the fingers. His movements showed more grace than I would have thought possible for a man his size.

"It is such an honor to meet you, fair lady. What might I call you?" Having him stand so close, I saw he was even taller than Ragnar and Bjorn, if only a little. Maybe if I sat on a horse we'd be able to look each other in the eye.

"My name is Ragnhild," I spoke with a clear voice, "But I assure you, the honor is all mine. I have heard the tales of your bravery in battle." With a simple man like that, a little flattery went a long way. He gave me a radiant smile.

"I will be glad to tell you of my victories myself if you'd honor me by sitting beside me at the feast tonight. Will you join us?"

"I'd love to, thank you for inviting me," I said with a small nod of my head.

"I have some matters to discuss with Ragnar and Bjorn in private, but feel free to explore the town and its riches." I took my leave and walked outside, curious to find out how other towns like Kattegat looked like. Before I could find anyone to accompany me, a young man came up to me, introducing himself as Jarrick. He was the son of Arvid, by his first wife. Judging by his lack of facial hair and length, he was even younger than Bjorn.

"You must be Ragnhild, my father told me you would be coming with Ragnar. I would be happy to show you our town," he offered. I didn't miss the detail Ragnar had sent the messenger with news of our arrival before he even invited me. Not having spoken until now, I was able to size him up with a soft look. He had recently shaven his head, a narrow face, and a build that told me he was no stranger to raiding. Still, he didn't look a day over fourteen. In my eyes, he was a child.

"I was hoping to find someone kind enough to show me around. In my experience, those who live in the place you visit always know the best places to go." Even though I considered Jarrick to be a spy for his father, he was more pleasant and honest than his father. He had an easy-going vibe, clearly having been influenced by a woman in his formative years. He was a pleasant boy to be around, though a little inexperienced as far as women went. His demeanor had something endearing to it, but I did my best not to get too attached. Seeing how Ragnar had killed a man for pretending to be like me, and the rage in his voice whenever he spoke of Jarl Borg, I had a feeling how this night would end.

It was barely noticeable at first, but as time went by Jarrick took great care to show me how much better Egersund was than Kattegat. The roads were better-taken care of, there were more horses, the market was smaller but held more exotic goods, and the earl was taking really good care of his people. I let little things slip, like how I loved horses but only had ridden one for the first time recently, after which Jarrick offered to take me riding tomorrow. When I told him of the beautiful jewelry I had seen in Kattegat, he promised to find me a necklace that would rival all of them. Jarrick even told me he would be happy to have me stay with him and his father, should I choose to move here. As far as Viking went, he was terribly subtle. As far as I was concerned, it was obvious what he was trying to do. Still, I played coy, as if I had yet to be convinced of what he promised.

When the tour was finished, it was already time for the feast. I was to be seated between Arvid and Jarrick, with Bjorn and Ragnar opposite of us. We were all smiles and kindness as Arvid asked me how I had found his town.

"It is a lovely town, I can see you care for your people. Jarrick was the image of grace and hospitality. He even offered to take me riding tomorrow, to see more than just the town."

"Ah, it seems you have discovered her weakness," Ragnar said with a grin. "Ragnhild loves animals, except for cows, somehow."

"They're strange. They fall asleep while they still stand. It's funny to tip them over then, but other than that I fail to see their charm."

"What happens when you tip them over?" Bjorn asked.

"They wake up confused and start chasing you down, but some will say they start dancing just to see you make a fool of yourself. Believe me, they can run very fast." Arvid and Jarrick laughed just a little too loud, while Ragnar and Bjorn just saw it for what it was: one of my useless, quirky facts.

"I also offered to buy her some jewelry off a trader, but she didn't seem too enthusiastic about it," Jarrick told his father.

"What woman doesn't like nice things like that?" Arvid asked.

"Some things can't be bought," I said, taking a drink of ale. Ragnar's eyes showed a twinkle, knowing what I'd been doing.

"But all things have a price," Arvid said.

"And what price would you put on her?" Ragnar asked. "I know why you have invited us here." I tensed a bit, not having expected things to take a turn for the worse so suddenly. Jarrick and Bjorn looked at their fathers, clearly in the middle of a power struggle, while stealing glances at me as well to see how I'd react.

"You honestly think I believe I could buy her from you?"

"Ragnhild is a free woman. She can do as she pleases." They both looked at me now, waiting for what I would say. I was dying to crawl away under the table, but that was not an option.

"With all this talk of buying me, I just wonder how much you think I'm worth, and what you would presume to be buying," I said to Arvid.

"I don't understand. Ragnar just said..."

"I wasn't implying you would be paying him." Tensions rose even higher, a glimmer of doubt showing on Ragnar's face. Arvid noticed and took in a large amount of air. He sized me up again as I raised an eyebrow. I saw him calculating how much would impress me, without costing him too much.

"I would make you my wife, and you will be dressed in the finest silks for the rest of your days. You will share in my wealth and rule Egersund beside me." My expression didn't change. "And of course, you will have as many slaves as you want to, and you'll be given a handsome sum of gold and silver for your own. And some lands."

"Huh," I just said, turning back to my cup.

"How does that sound, Ragnhild?" Ragnar said with a tinge of bitterness. If I were to accept Arvid's offer, he had no choice but to follow through on what he had said. If I said the word, I'd be an earl's wife and live comfortable for the rest of my days - only a few, judging by Ragnar's look.

"You know what I want, Ragnar. If you'll excuse me, I have to relieve myself." I got up and left the hall.

"Does this mean you need to think on it?" Arvid called out after me. I didn't respond, exiting the hall and heading towards the beach. I found a rock to sit down on and watched as the water rolled towards me. The moon hung high over a rock formation jutting out of the sea some distance away, casting an eerie shadow on the waves as they came to meet me. Otherwise, the view of the ocean was unobstructed. It was so much different from Kattegat. At first, I had thought the mountains on either side were confining, but compared to this vast open space they now seemed protective.

The moon had moved as I heard footsteps approaching. I recognized Ragnar's voice as he spoke.

"You made me worry for a bit, back there." I scoffed as he sat down beside me.

"You were the one to tell me I didn't know how much I was worth. You'd never give me an honest answer to that question, so I had Arvid answer it for me."

"How does it feel, knowing you could be an earl's wife and live a life of luxury?"

"I feel empty. I know what it's like to live without wanting for anything, and I know what it's like to be poor, or even a slave. And still, I was more content the past year than I was back home. I don't care for treasure, or things, or fame. I just want to be happy, live a fulfilling life where I can do what I want and have someone to share it with."

"Unhappiness is more common than happiness. It might be the biggest luxury of them all."

"Then I guess I'm just as greedy as all of you."

"Make no mistake, our world is not built on happiness. It has come to this through persistence, honor, and loyalty." I looked at him, his face turned soft as I caught his eye. "Though I guess you possess all of those traits, despite the fact you may show them in strange ways. Who knows what the gods have in store for us."

"From what I've been told about them, they seem like vicious cunts. I believe I have control of my own fate, and therefore am responsible for my own happiness. The gods may throw at me what they will, but how I choose to respond, and the choices I make, that is what will determine if I will be happy or not."

"You are a strange woman. I fear we all might have a great deal to learn from you."

"You don't strike me as one to fear change. You bask in it, always finding a way to benefit from it."

"You seem to know me better than my wife."

"Your wife focuses on the bond between you. I focus on you as a person."

"What I saw you do today, and before with Wilfrid, you impressed me. You seem to have no trouble finding the distinctions between subtle meanings."

"Compared to the bluntness of the average Viking? Please, don't insult me. Anyone with a set of brains would be able to do the same."

"Then your brain must be marvelous indeed. Do you like playing this kind of games?" Was he asking me if I'd help him like this more often?

"I do, but I don't necessarily like the outcome. I take it Arvid and Jarrick are both dead and you have just taken over these lands."

"I thought that might've been the reason you didn't return."

"And you accepted that, seeing as you took the time to get the blood off your face and hands before you came to find me." He'd never let someone else take care of his dirty work if it was as important as taking over an earldom.

"Once again you impress me. For all your talk of how broken you are, lately, you have shown me just what you are capable of. Like you did when you told me you didn't want that house and made me struggle to give it to you." I flushed, but Ragnar just smiled at me. "You'll be fearsome, one day. I enjoy these talks with you. I'll let you know if there are more games coming." I thought it strange to refer to the ruling of land to games, it reminded me of a TV show I loved to watch. From what I had seen so far, it was much subtler than was televised, as I wasn't able to see what the enemy was thinking or plotting.

"You're not mad? About the house?"

"Like I said, you impressed me. It wasn't until you had accepted that I had an idea of just what you were trying to accomplish."

"I just needed to have that bit of security."

"As is your right. If my gut is right, you have been through enough to warrant such caution, and now it just might help you survive here all the better." Ragnar was smiling just a bit too much for my liking.

"You're awfully relaxed about this."

"You didn't cause me harm, and I'm not one to bear grudges. It should be safe to go back to the hall now if you wish. A decent bed does wonders for feeling rested." We walked back to the hall, where I saw blood on the floor but no bodies. I could pretend it was a large ketchup stain, which made it bearable. The future would no doubt hold much more games and ketchup, so I'd better get used to it. This was my life now, as the vessel of Freyja.


	37. Through the Looking Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Helga POV, where she sees love blooming.  
> 18-07-800

Ragnhild reminded me of a lot of things, and none of it seemed to fit. She could be carefree as a child, then change into an old, wise woman the next. She could be diligent, careful, and caring where it concerned others, but in doing so, she neglected herself. There seemed to be no real balance to her, like she was still finding her way.

It couldn't have been easy, coming from a distant land. The smallest things could amaze her, and huge things like that gorgeous blanket would barely elicit a response. The more she told me about herself, the more I realized I would never be able to fully understand her.

"Helga?"

"Floki?"

"What are you thinking of?" He sat up, putting his arm around my back. His fingers softly stroked my hip as his eyes searched mine.

"What do you think?"

"Well, if I was one to guess, I'd say you were thinking of our vessel. She makes you wonder about things, and now she has you asking strange questions."

"You're right. She's... It's hard to put words to her."

"She's beautiful," I heard Bjorn sigh. He was staring at her, rather obviously, but Ragnhild was intently staring at her book.

"Are you in love with her?" He blushed, telling me all I needed to know.

"Be careful, Bjorn. She's not one to let you in easily, or let you go." Floki's comment made me look up.

"What makes you say that?"

"She's different. Who knows how love looks to her? She loves the boys, but I've yet to see her express any interest in men, or women for that matter."

"I'm not in love," Bjorn muttered. Floki and I shared a look. "Can't I just look at a woman like her?"

"You are still young, Bjorn. You will find out, soon enough. She's beyond you."

"Because she could be the wife of an earl? Do you think I cannot give her what she deserves?" The boy was so badly in love, he didn't even realize how deep he had fallen already. Young love was such a wonder to behold.

"I don't think that's what Floki means," I said carefully, not wanting to speak for him. "Ragnhild is older, and no stranger to love. Perhaps it's best to find a girl more your age."

"It's only six years," he said defensively.

"And you cannot see the scars she bears. You have no idea what you would be getting yourself into." I saw his eyes narrow, he still didn't understand.

"Do you mean to tell me you two can see something I can't?" I gave him a knowing smile.

"Floki once caught her singing in the forest, over a year ago. She stopped when she saw him, but then went on. She told him the song was about love, when he asked."

"A broken heart that never heals, to be exact. I didn't even know there were songs that told of such things. Why would she sing it, if it wasn't how she felt?"

"How can you know that?" Bjorn grew irritated, clearly not liking this story.

"I have spent a lot of time with her, as you know. We spoke, to great lengths. She is not just scarred, but damaged. You are too young for love, at any rate. You should not worry yourself with matters of the heart. We don't show it until the axe reveals it, and she needs someone who will tear his chest open to let her see."

"You can't know that."

"Oh, but I can. She told me so." Now even I felt a little unsettled. Love was not spoken of like that. "She does not realize it is something we do not speak of. It helps her to sing about things, and her voice isn't that awful. She is the vessel of Freyja, after all." I was a fool to worry. Of course, someone so closely connected to Freyja would not fear any looks or lewd comments on the subject. It was well known she was the one being that openly dared like poetry about matters of the heart.

"The more I hear, the more she fascinates me," Bjorn sighed. "What else do you know of her?" Ragnhild looked up for a second, then turned her attention to the sky. An easy smile came to her face.

"She sees things we can't," I said. "What could she see up there that makes her smile like a child?"

"She likes to cook, but doesn't like the flavor, she says it's all too bland. Her family is as good as dead to her, and she doesn't like men who swoon at her feet, or drool at the sight of her." Bjorn cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

"She likes to get to know someone better before she even considers getting intimate with someone. She told Aslaug before we left." At my words, Bjorn seemed to get a grip on his mind again.

"Don't encourage the boy, Helga. You know this can only go one way."

"I think it might be good for her to give it a try, at the least. For both of them." Before he could respond I saw the oars getting pulled on board, and some men were getting up to exchange places. Floki was up fast, but not as quick as Bjorn. One of the seats near Ragnhild was vacated, and he pushed aside a few men to get near her. He even had the audacity to ask Torstein to switch places with him, and as Torstein saw what might have been the reason why he grinned widely, then gladly stood up to exchange places. Even though Bjorn was now facing away from her he looked excited, and as he called out behind him Ragnhild moved a little closer so they could talk.

"I knew it," Ragnar said as he sat down beside me. He was sweaty from his turn rowing, but he smiled despite the gentle heat. "He's in love with her, isn't he?"

"I wouldn't know," I tried. One look from Ragnar told me he saw through me. He did that, much in the same way Floki could see through me. "It is rather obvious."

"Are you loyal to her, or him?" I had to think about that for a bit.

"A bit of both." Bjorn was a sweet boy, and I still remembered the first time I saw him. He had looked panicked over his father almost dying. Then again, Ragnhild... I felt a strong urge to protect her, and it had only grown stronger since she had become a free woman.

"At least he's not going for the easy pickings."

"Who, the boy?" Rollo sat down as well, having made sure every man had a drink. "He'll have better luck trying to seduce a wolf." Ragnhild's voice rang out in a sweet laughter, she threw her head back in delight.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that. He's never tied her to a tree, so he's got that going for him." Ragnar loved pushing his brother's boundaries, even though their relationship had improved since Rollo had saved his family.

"He's too young to know of love. Had she still been a slave he could've just had his way with her, and he'd be cured. She's put some kind of spell on him, I'm sure of it. She holds some kind of seidr."

"Not everything in this world is the work of the gods," I countered. "Some things are just what they are."

"Then what do you think she is?" Ragnar's eyes followed her, taking in all of her movements.

"I think she's just having fun right now, and if she catches you staring like that she will grow sullen for the rest of the day." He turned his head to the open sea.

"I don't get it. What is it about her that makes men want her?" Rollo was a man of simple tastes. Anything he couldn't understand was something he couldn't appreciate.

"She's one of those women who only show their beauty when they want you to see it. And right now she wants Bjorn to see." He kept throwing looks at the couple.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that, Ragnar. She almost fainted when I told her she was beautiful a few days back. I think they may hold a different opinion on what is beautiful, where she comes from. She measures with those standards, not ours."

"And how would you know that? How could anyone not think you and Siggy are beautiful?" Ragnar cast his brother a careful glance over having left Aslaug out. So did I.

"She feels comfortable talking about it to me. I've learned a lot about her habits and perspective during the time she helped Floki out."

"I still can't believe she was able to help him," Rollo sighed. "Just what does she know? It is unsettling to have a woman bear that kind of knowledge."

"Because she is so smart, or because she is a woman?" Ragnar kept on pushing, it seemed. At least he no longer stared at Ragnhild.

"Both. Neither. She's infuriating. How can you speak or think of someone who is that... We lack the words to talk of her."

"Now that is something Bjorn agrees on." I tried to divert our attention to the pair again, wanting to avoid a petty clash where I would have to bear witness. Bjorn did look rather taken with her, listening intently to one of her stories. From her expressions and gestures, I saw she was telling him about some kind of adventure.

"There's much she could teach us. If you can look past her fighting you..."

"She should be learning from us, not the other way around."

"When you were in England, she taught Ubbe that because she is so different, they can learn from each other," I offered. Rollo grunted as he got up, leaving us to sit halfway. He stared out at the open sea, resting his back on the mast.

"What do you think?" I glanced up, seeing Ragnar was looking at them again.

"I think we should let them find out for themselves if they fit together or not." Either way, they would come out of it having learned a lot.

"You know as well as I that it will take time for her to trust him. How many fertile years will she have left when she is ready for children?"

"It's not the number of children that you should worry about." I got a menacing look from him. "As long as any children are strong, and will survive, it matters not how many there are. You already know she can raise them well."

"Sometimes I worry, though. She's not Viking, and especially Hvitserk..."

"She's more Viking than you know. Did Floki not tell you of her curse?"

"He told me. Of the marking he saw, and how it looked. He told me you held it in your hand."

"It was... Strange. I've never seen something like it. She spoke the truth, it was a curse. What else could it be?"

"One that could be removed whenever she wanted? She feared the worst would happen, and eventually, it only hurt a little."

"What are you talking about?"

"I caught a conversation between her and Athelstan, once. She told him that sometimes it was easier to tell us she was cursed than it was to tell the truth." Had she lied to me? To Floki?

"Are you sure it was about this?"

"I am. I may have grown fond of her, but there are still questions that linger on my mind."

"Floki would say it is not for us to understand the gods." Nonetheless I frowned, trying to come up with an explanation. "I fail to see how she would have anything to gain from lying."

"Then what could she lose by telling us the truth?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just know she is terrified of us finding out where she came from, even though she loves talking about the strange things she knows from back there." Bjorn let out a loud laugh, and I could see Torstein had an expression of pure joy on his face. Ragnhild looked a little surprised as if she hadn't expected such a reaction. Her mirth had been replaced with confusion and sadness. "Does she really look like anything you should worry about?" We watched how Bjorn threw back a look and caught her confusion. He comforted her with an easy smile and a few words, and it seemed to work.

"Who knows what she'll do... Whatever it is, she will need to get used to our way of life if she is to have this fantasy of hers come true."

"Fantasy?"

"She told me that all she wants in life is to be happy." He made it sound like she was asking for the moon.

"Then you worry because you cannot promise her that? You always rely on having whatever the other wants, but you can't give her what she wants." He sized me up.

"You've been talking to her."

"I have. She wants to find love, have children, learn new things, she wants to live. You do remember what it's like to want it all, right? And right now, she just needs a little of a few of those things." He didn't seem pleased with my answer.

"Then what will happen if I let Bjorn try and make her his?"

"There's no telling what will happen. Let it play out, I think things will be okay. They both have a lot to learn, and they can teach each other." Of that, I was convinced. The harder it was to love someone, the more fierce their love would be. "It took a while for me and Floki to connect, if you can recall."

"You weren't afraid of the men that lusted over you."

"She has her reasons to be scared. Pushing her on it won't do any good. Give her time to heal. Give her time to learn."

"You're starting to sound like her."

"She's... Special." Ragnar let out a soft laugh.

"The gods only know..." I inched a little closer.

"You do realize that if your son tries to get closer to her, you need to stop casting those kinds of glances at her?" He slowly turned his head to face me.

"Just what do you think you see in my eyes?"

"A longing. One I can't fully place."

"I long to understand her. I want her to trust me. And I need her to learn to accept our way of life."

"Then let her find her own way. You can light a torch along her path, but don't push her in any direction just to see how she will react."

"That sounds like something she would say."

"Well, she is good at giving advice. Although I doubt she realizes at least half the men she talks to hope to get to know her and ask her about how to approach her." Ragnar laughed out loud, causing the lovebirds to look up.

"Bjorn will have his hands full with her. You're right, I'll just see how this plays out." Ragnhild had already focused on Bjorn again, eyes wide in shock as he told her some story, looking rather smug as he did. They looked so excited, and so in love. Just maybe...


	38. The Blanket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23-07-800

After two days in Egersund to consolidate Ragnar's rule and him accepting many vows of loyalty, we went back. I found it hard to believe this one boat filled with warriors was enough to overthrow an earldom, but Ragnar had a way of surprising me like that. He had insisted we not plunder the town, allowing for an easier transition, but he did get me something for my help. Knowing I didn't care much for jewelry, he gave me a very well-made blade. I could've sworn I had seen it on Jarrick, but I didn't linger on that thought for long. Ragnar was sure the knives I had would be almost useless by now, he told me, so I accepted it gracefully, making a mental note to hide them better as soon as we got back.

As the shore came into sight, I took in a last deep breath of the salty air.

"You look like you already miss the open sea," Bjorn said.

"I'll be glad to have sand underneath my feet again, I'm still terrified we could get hit by a storm."

"There's still time to throw up. You made it sound like I would have to rub your back for days." I just rolled my eyes.

"I like the smell of the ocean. It reminds me of... Home. The good things there, at least."

"I could come by tonight if you want. You did promise to make me dinner with flavor." After three weeks of people all around me, I was dead-set on a quiet night by myself.

"Maybe some other time, I could really do with some time alone. I'm not used to having no privacy for so long."

"You mentioned that before... I just don't understand how that... Like, how do you..."

"How did I live?" I chuckled a bit, knowing I was about to blow his mind. "Well, imagine that when you're inside your own home, you never feel the wind come in. We've got solid walls, that keep out the cold and wind, as well as most of the sound." I glanced over, seeing what I'd hoped. Bjorn wanted to believe me, but he was just not sure how such a thing would look.

"Then... How would you get the walls like that?"

"That's a long story... The world I know is very different from yours. We'd never dream of having a cooking fire anywhere inside, for one. We've other ways of keeping warm and lighting the room. There's fresh water delivered to our houses and a near limitless supply of it. And of course, the food's much better."

"I'll have to see that for myself. You make me wonder just why you'd ever want to leave." I got up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I could do with a few days where no one would try and figure out my secret, as well. The boat was almost there, the men pulled the oars back on board to keep them from breaking against the docking. "Ragnhild? Is it something I said?"

"I just really want to take a bath," I lied as I picked up the towel. "I'll be busy for a few days, with getting supplies and stuff. Would you mind if we go riding another time?"

"Not at all. Just let me know when you've caught up." The first men got off the ship, making sure the boat wouldn't drift off. I got off as well, seeing the shore was almost devoid of people. The boys came running up to Ragnar, who took both of them in his arms. I smiled as I saw them, knowing they'd want to hear all about the trip.

"It was nice spending some time with you, Bjorn. I'll drop by later this week."

"Enjoy your bath." Before he could say anything more I left the beach, heading home. I really needed to have a moment to myself. For almost a week I'd been stuck on that boat, and I was very happy to be able to move around a bit again.

The house smelled a little stuffy, but I didn't feel like throwing open all the shutters before I'd had a chance to wash. I threw my bag into the corner for now and took a second to lie on the bed. It still felt like I was swaying a bit in my head, not helping me feel at home at all.

I let out a deep sigh, coming all the way from my toes. Even the fresh water I'd hoped to bathe in was barely enough to wash with a cloth, and it wasn't exactly fresh anymore. Most of the food I'd left was now spoiled. At least I didn't have to feel bad about lying to Bjorn anymore, I really did have to run a lot of errands tomorrow. I settled for scrubbing off the worst of the dirt with the brackish water, then changed into clean clothes.

"Ragnhild!" a child's voice called out as the door opened with a bang. Before I could turn around, Ubbe was clinging to my waist, pushing his head into my chest. "You're back but I didn't see you with Bjorn or father!" At least someone was enthusiastic about my return.

"I've barely been gone," I said as I sank down to meet his eyes. Hvitserk came running in as well, wrapping his pudgy arms around me.

"Ragnhild," he told my neck.

"Oh, I've missed you, too. How have you been?" Hvitserk launched into a story of how Floki and Happy had been doing, making me smile. Then Ubbe started telling me about how he'd lost a tooth and that he'd kept it for me to see. He proudly showed his broken smile.

"Father said you'd have some stories to tell of your own," he said, still smiling.

"Oh, don't get me started! I have so much to tell you." I launched into the story of how I had ridden a horse for the very first time, which made the boys laugh and giggle. They loved to hear me fail and blunder as I made my way through this weird world of theirs.

"How come you're so stupid?" Hvitserk asked. The smile disappeared from my face.

"I don't like it when you call me stupid, Hvitserk. I might not know everything you do, but that also means I know things you don't. That doesn't make me stupid, that makes us different." He wore a determined expression, pushing his bottom lip up.

"How come you're different?"

"Ragnhild comes from a different country." I'd had a similar talk with Ubbe a few moons ago.

"Are you from Sweden? Or Denmark?"

"Neither. I actually went with your father to try and find out more. Would you like to see what I found?" I took the blanket from my bag and spread it out on the table. "See that woman? That's supposed to be me. One day I just appeared here, at a lake not too far away from here. A woman named Selby took me in and took care of me, I was awfully ill when I got here. After I was brought here she made this for me, but she died before I could see her again." I told them of my memories and what I had learned, then linked it to the images on the blanket.

"No wonder father asked you to join him," Ubbe said.

"Indeed. He thought I'd like to go back there, to find answers."

"You came here on Valisblot?" Ubbe said as he touched the runes along the side.

"I did. I didn't even realize that until Ragnar told me."

"And... It says here you will change our destiny." I leaned over, curious to find out what the runes were telling the boys.

"Where? Ragnar never told me what it reads."

"Can't you see? It's right here," Hvitserk said.

"I can't read runes."

"But even I can read those."

"And I can read the books Athelstan has, which you don't understand. We both know different things, but together we know more than anyone else." His mouth gaped open in understanding. "Can you tell me if it says anything else?" He climbed on a seat to see it better.

"She will come on Valisblot, carried by wings of wisdom. Entwined with hers are our fate and destiny, coming to us like a Valkyrie." That sounded vague enough to be a prophecy. I was starting to hate those.

"Wow, I'm impressed you can read that, Hvitserk. And do you know what it means?" He just shrugged his shoulders. It was Ubbe who told me his thoughts. For a seven-year-old, he had a good expression saved up for when he was thinking really hard.

"I think this is why father freed you when he found out. If you control our destiny, then it wouldn't look good to keep you as a slave. But I don't get it..."

"Maybe we can work it out together. What don't you understand?"

"Well, you have these markings, right? Of Bygul and Tregul, and -" Honey and amber?

"Who are they?" Ubbe wasn't sure if I was lying or not.

"They... They're pulling the chariot Freyja rides on. Everone knows... Well, we all do. They're obedient to her."

"Aren't most cats?"

"No, they're wild. You must have seen them in the forest."

"Well, where I come from we keep them as pets. They chase off the mice and rats."

"But they're mean," Hvitserk said. "They can scratch out your eyes. Mother always tells me to look out for them."

"Yeah, not just anyone can tame one. That's why they're so special."

"And the other markings? I know a bit, but I think you could teach me a lot about them."

"You have this heart as well, right? With flames around it?" The way they talked about it...

"I could show you." The boys' eyes went wide with delight. It was like they hadn't dared to ask. With a smile, I showed them the cats first. Hvitserk took in a loud gasp as he saw them.

"I didn't know they looked like that..."

"They have color. I've never seen markings like this..." If the boys were this surprised, I could understand why Ragnar and Floki had just stared, and how Ragnar had wanted to touch the marks to see just how there could be color mixed in there.

"It's beautiful," Hvitserk said. "Where are the other two?" I lowered my skirts and loosened the lacing of my dress, glad to be wearing a cloth around my breasts. If the boys felt uncomfortable with me showing so much skin, it was completely overshadowed by their eagerness to see.

"How did you get them?" Hvitserk was engrossed with the heart, but Ubbe was looking at me intently. I couldn't very well tell them it was just a blotch of ink, just like the ones their father had.

"I got them before I came here. They just appeared slowly, but I felt a bit embarrassed about them. That's why I covered them up, I had no idea what they meant or why. No one else had marks on their skin appear." Judging by his smile, Ubbe swallowed my lie.

"And the other one?" Hvitserk asked. Smiling I let them see my back.

"You're definitely her vessel," Ubbe said.

"It's not colored as the other two."

"Well, I'm sure Freyja had her reasons to keep it simple."

"Why did she pick you?"

"I don't think anyone knows, save the gods. I guess we'll have to wait and see." My thoughts were racing. Why hadn't Ragnar told me what the runes meant? And now that I knew, could I really keep denying what I had started to accept in my heart? It had been the gods that brought me here, I felt that even stronger now. Who else could possibly have the power to send me back through time? But I knew there was no such thing as gods. That was just silly.


	39. More Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-11-800

As the days went by my life started to fall into a rhythm again, but a much nicer one than before. I helped out Aslaug with the boys when she needed me to, but otherwise, I was free to follow my own pursuits. Ragnar had agreed to let me take care of Athelstan's books and scriptures, which I could decipher with some difficulty. I taught myself a bit of the current English, noticing it was flecked with Dutch and German. When I tried to talk to some of the traders on the market they were enthusiastic to try and talk to me in their tongue, flabbergasted one of these savages took the time to take an interest.

Other days I would go out riding with Bjorn, who taught me how to make sure the horse enjoyed the riding as much as I did. We talked a fair bit as we did, getting to know each other better. Before long I considered him a friend. Whenever Floki and Helga came by I took the time to catch up, asking about their weird exploits and new projects. 

What stood out most, however, was the unscheduled visits of people from Kattegat. They would come to me for wisdom or blessings, sometimes both. Most of their questions were about courting and trying to win someone's heart and being vastly experienced in how not to do that, I could point out mistakes and offer alternatives. The visitors soon learned I didn't care for gifts or payment, happy to be able to help and be seen as a valuable member of the community. Sometimes traders would come by or approach me when they saw me at the market, asking about rumors about the world and strange countries. Still, there were days where I would leave the house and found packages with eggs, loaves of bread, or dried meat in front of my door.

One man even claimed to have come for my guidance all the way from Denmark, which I found hard to believe, but I was happy to advise him on what to do about his wife sleeping with his brother. He insisted on giving me something for my advice, but I told him he should keep the treasure he had brought and hoard it, should he choose to release her from her vows, or get his wife something nice should he choose to forgive her. For all the talk of how I was the vessel of Freyja, I felt more like a therapist or a guidance counselor. 

Life slowed down as winter came upon us, the fjord freezing over and the land too cold and snow-blown to travel across. The number of visitors slowed down as well, and as Yol was approaching, I decided to take the liberty of decorating my house for the occasion. I was just putting up some pine branches with strings, not wanting to drag in an entire tree, when Ragnar came in. 

"I take it this is one of your weird traditions?" 

"It is, actually. And it brightens up the house, it's dark and dreary enough out there. Do you like it?" 

"You've grown a lot more accustomed to living here since I took you to Egersund." I looked him over, not knowing why he'd come back to it.

"I have... It was quite the trip. Why do you bring it up?"

"Because I am curious to see how you're holding up. You seem to accept your role as the vessel of Freyja, at least when others can see. How do you really feel about it?" I sat down with a sigh, not knowing what to tell him. Ragnar eyed my furniture with some misgivings, preferring to stand.

"I'm not sure what to tell you. Do you want to know what I think, or if I'm able to keep it up?"

"Let's just assume this is me checking up on you." That still told me nothing. 

"Well, I'm still not sure. I enjoy helping people when they come with questions, but I don't understand why they would leave things at my door when I keep telling them not to. Even when I know who left something and I try to return it, they just deny it." 

"Would you ever dream of asking someone for help without doing something in return?" It wouldn't even cross my mind, but mostly because I was afraid of having them collect their due payment at a later time. Others didn't seem to think about it the way I did. 

"Then explain this to me. Why do they not go to the Seer? Is he not guided by more gods than just Freyja? Surely he knows more than me."

"Ah, but you forget. The Seer speaks in riddles. He may tell you things about the future, but only when it has come to pass do you understand his words." That would mean everyone would find out about where I came from, eventually. It made me worry all the more. 

"Out of curiosity, what would you do to someone who can do magic?" 

"Magic? What's that?"

"Err... Like, there's this story that Hvitserk likes where an evil queen gives a poisoned apple to a princess. After taking a bite she falls asleep for a hundred years."

"No wonder he's not fond of them anymore. A poisoned apple sounds like something Loki would come up with, but I fail to see how that's something I would ever rule over. Where is this coming from?" I'd get killed, for sure. 

"I'm just curious."

"How would you judge such a thing? I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

"We'd see it as assault, I think. We know there's no such thing as magic." I left his question unanswered, not knowing just how to get him to back off. 

"But there is such a thing as gods if I'm not mistaken."

"We had a few different religions, yes. I'm... Not a fan."

"I came here to talk of something else. A messenger came by." I was glad for the change of subject.

"That must have been at least two weeks ago, if he managed to leave as well. Why only tell me now?" He gave me a knowing smile.

"Because I wanted to think on how to proceed. Surely you know it takes time to prepare when you're playing games." He wanted to know if I would be willing to get involved again.

"That depends. Being able to think of something quickly might give one the element of surprise."

"That may be, but this one is... A bit more complex."

"More complex than taking over an earldom and pretending I can be bought?" 

"The messenger has told me we'll be visited by king Horik soon. He will take a large number of men and wants us to join west for another raid on England."

"How nice of him to ask first. Do you plan on listening to him?"

"I am. But you're not." That was quite a big step from fooling a brute into thinking I'd consider his offer of marriage.

"You want me to dissuade him... What will be my brilliant idea?"

"We'll go south."

"To Paris?"

"We need more time to build boats that can carry us there. We'll head to Frisia." Which was part of the country where I came from. I knew how the land up there looked, and how little there was to gain there aside from farming lands and a little iron.

"What riches will you find there?"

"We will kill the Christians there, take the women and children, and whatever else we can find." The usual, I supposed.

"That sounds rather poor, compared to the riches you could find in England."

"But this time, the vessel of Freyja will come with us." Curious as I was to see how the land I knew as the Netherlands looked like in these days, it could prove to be very dangerous. What if Ragnar heard the people speak, and recognized the language? What if there was barely anything to find there, and my position as godsend would be discredited? Would I lose my freedom? "You don't like the idea of going on a raid?" Jumping on his train of thought, I confirmed Ragnar's suspicions. 

"I have enough trouble accepting the customs and culture here in Kattegat, how well do you think I'll fare?"

"I think you'll manage to surprise me once again. You still have time to think on it, but if you refuse there is always an excuse to be made for you staying home. For women, being with child usually works rather well." Just the idea of me trying to raise a child here...

"And when king Horik gets back, seeing me without a child? Who would even pretend to be the father?" Ragnar's eyes narrowed a little, realizing just what a silly idea that was.

"Take some time to think on it. Bjorn probably still remembers his first raid well, he might be able to answer some of your questions. We'll talk after Yol." Ragnar turned to the door, but before he left, he seemed to have a last question for me. "Bjorn told me of this strange custom you have about swimming in the sea, the day after Yol. Are you planning on doing that?"

"I might. Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious to find out about your traditions. For all your boasting about how much better your homeland is, this seems to make no sense to me." I'd mostly been boasting about the technological advancements, and that had mostly been said to Bjorn... And if he was so interested in my traditions, I'd have to be more careful not to let it slip most of the holidays I knew were related to false gods. 

"You would be welcome to join me. It doesn't involve a ritual or any gods, it's just for fun."

"I fail to see how it would fun, but I'll enjoy seeing you shiver when you get out." Now I was sure to go for a new year's dive, just to show off a little. If a woman like me had the balls to do it, maybe I could put a little shame into these fierce Viking men and coax them to prove they could be as bad-ass as me.


	40. Diving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-01-801

Yol came and went in a blaze of glory, literally. A lot of things were burned and sacrificed, the cold snow blowing wildly and cutting into my face as I witnessed them. Ragnar had asked me if I'd wanted to play a part in the celebrations, but I felt like too much of an outsider to take such a role upon myself. Besides, I didn't look forward to having to do anything with slaughtering animals. I was satisfied just watching it all, taking everything in as it happened.

It was much colder than back home during this time of year, but after all the daring looks and questions, I had no choice but to go on with my dive, if only to save face. Some men agreed to go with if I led the way, sure I would back out. 

When the day finally came, I woke up with a slight hangover, as was tradition. To me, a new year had started. I made sure I had a good breakfast and put on my swimming clothes, making sure the cloth I wore around my breasts was thick enough not to show my nipples getting hard. The dress itself was meant for summer, which meant it wouldn't drag me down when it got heavy with water. I put on the thickest fur cloak I had and brought my towel. 

It was quiet in the hall, but the roaring fire in the middle of the hall made me feel at ease instantly. I would not be cold for long. Bjorn was already waiting, alongside Ragnar and the boys. Even Siggy wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Ubbe tried to convince Ragnar to let him join, but he just laughed at his son. 

"Come on, the water isn't getting any warmer," I said. There was barely any sunlight each day, and I did like seeing how far I was away from the coast. We left for the beach, which was, to no surprise of mine, deserted. 

"Are you really doing this?" Bjorn asked, still not truly convinced I could be this mad. 

"I am. Aren't you going with me?"

"I don't want to die from cramps, or drowning." I scoffed, not understanding what the big deal was. People in Russia did this at minus 20 degrees and still survived. Hvitserk and Ubbe ran towards the coastline, touching the water and hooting. I'd want to run in at once, not feel the water first. 

"Don't go out too far. If something happens, we won't be able to get you out on time." Knowing Siggy's fears were justified, I promised. Figuring there was no time like the present, I gave her the fur cloak. Before my body could cool down too much I started warming up. Swinging round my arms and stretching my legs, I must have cut quite the figure. 

"You said there wasn't any ritual involved," Ragnar said. 

"This is just to prevent me from cramping up. I don't plan on drowning anytime soon." Taking a deep sigh, I was ready to face the cold. 

"WIsh me luck," I said, then ran off into the water. It was not just freezing cold, it felt like I was rolling around in ice cubes. I screamed out as the water splashed up against my body, caused by my running with my legs raised high to cover as much distance as possible, as fast as possible. My friends on the beach were laughing and shouting, but the sound soon disappeared as I dove in, feeling as if my face hit liquid ice. I burst back out of the water again, pushing off against the bottom of the sea. I started swimming immediately, not wanting my muscles to cool down. This time I kept my head above water as I swam freestyle, not wanting my head to cool down too fast. It didn't help much, though, and after only half a minute or so I turned around. I was cooling down faster than I thought, and there was only one thing I could think of that would make sure I would come back to the beach without hypothermia. It would take me a little longer, but I felt like it was the best option available. 

Changing to butterfly style, I kept my eyes closed against the cold and salty water, only taking peeks to see how far off the shore I was. When I was fairly sure I'd made it far enough, I stopped and felt my feet hit solid ground. I stumbled onto the beach, feeling how the soft breeze was enough to cool me down even further. Everyone stared at me for some reason, while Bjorn handed me my towel. I quickly got most of the water from my hair and then wrapped it around me, then wrapped the cloak around me as well. 

"Okay, that was fun but now I really want to get back inside," I said, feeling my lips shiver before the rest of my body followed suit. 

"You're insane," Bjorn said, wrapping an arm around me, trying to warm me up a little faster by moving his hand across my arm. 

"I know," I barely got out. Hvitserk jumped around, shouting in glee at the weirdness of what I had done. As we got to the hall, the warmth of the air felt like a welcome friend. I sat down close to the fire, holding out my shaking hands to warm them. 

"You really did it?" Aslaug shook her head. Her hand slid down to her belly, which showed a bump now. A servant brought me a warm drink, which almost shook out of the mug as I took it. Taking a deep breath, willing my body to calm down a bit, I managed to take a sip. 

"It was amazing, mother!" Ubbe told Aslaug. "She looked just like on the blanket, but her wings were made of water!" I spat out the warm mead, causing the fire before me to grow a little as the alcohol evaporated in it. "I've never seen anyone swim like that!" I sank down in the furs, starting to shake again. 

"I can't take a shit without the gods being involved," I muttered. Bjorn snickered and put an arm around me again until the shivering subdued. I silently drank the mead and listened to Ubbe trying to tell everyone that would listen about what he'd seen, supported by Hvitserk. As soon as the mug was empty, Siggy insisted I changed into a dry dress, taking me by the hand so forcefully the furs fell off my shoulders and were left with Bjorn. 

"How dumb can you be?" she asked as she helped peel off the wet dress. 

"It's just some harmless tradition," I said, trying to calm her down. 

"I'm not talking about you swimming in the sea, although that's beyond my comprehension as well." 

"Siggy, what do you think I did?" She tore at the cloth bound around my breasts. 

"You are playing with that boy," she screamed in a whisper. "You can't be so blind you haven't noticed."

"Siggy? You're hurting me." She loosened her grasp on the cloth a little. 

"Bjorn is head over heels for you, and you treat him like a mere friend." A leftover block of ice made its way down my body. Seeing my reaction, Siggy softened, but just a little. "You are just so incredibly impossible. Ever since you two got back from Egersund he's been trying to come up with ways to spend more time with you, because he heard that's what you like before getting together with someone." Bjorn? But... He was so young. It would explain his tendency to come to talk to me when he'd had a drink or two, and why he had insisted on spending so much time with me making sure I knew how to ride a horse properly. 

"I'm an idiot," I told my feet. Being faced with this information, it all suddenly made so much sense. 

"Stand up straight," Siggy commanded, pulling a dress over my head. She yanked one of her own dresses over my head, dyed a deep red. "We were wondering why it took so long, but when Ragnar told me you didn't even seem to realize I didn't believe him, until today." So that was the realization Ragnar's face had shown when I told him I wasn't seeing anyone. Gods, that poor boy... 

"And then you decided to take it upon yourself to set me straight." Ragnar knew just who to set upon an important task like this. Now I knew, it felt like I had been walking into a brick wall ever since Bjorn had come back from his visit with Lagertha two moons back. 

"I'll talk to him. I have to process this first, but I'll talk to him." Siggy chased me off to the hall again. Walking up to Ragnar and Bjorn, I could now clearly see the twinkle in Bjorn's eyes. I was hoping I still saw a bit red in the face because of the swimming, otherwise, it would be very clear I'd be blushing. Luckily Torstein came bursting in, clamoring about how he'd not be beaten by a woman by not joining me. 

"You've missed the battle, my friend," Ragnar said. "Ragnhild already conquered the sea."

"No! This can't be!" He seemed glad to not have to face the cold.

"It's true, Torstein!" Hvitserk said, launching into the same tale Ubbe had been telling. He listened attentively, but I didn't miss the furtive glances he cast in my direction. Rolling my eyes I sat down, noticing my mug had been refilled. I just knew Ragnar was well aware of what Siggy had told me, no matter what I did or how I responded. I refused to give him the satisfaction of reading it in my eyes. 

"Have you thought about my question?" Ragnar asked, breaking the silence. Glad to have been given this reprieve, I took it with both hands. 

"I have. Bjorn has told me everything I wanted to know, and I have decided against it." He looked a little disappointed. Both of them did.

"Have you, now? What will we tell king Horik?" I glanced around and saw no one but him and Bjorn were paying any attention to the conversation. 

"Would it be terribly forward of me to ask you to trust me?"

"Why not tell me now?"

"Because I need your reaction to be genuine. I know what I'm doing." Ragnar's eyes flashed to Bjorn for just the barest of seconds, but I sat a little straighter. 

"Like I thought, you manage to surprise me once again."

"What's this I hear?" Torstein came crashing into the conversation. "You went without me?"

"I can't help it if you were so drunk last night I was certain you'd never wake up again." 

"Apparently, I missed quite the show or so little Hvitserk tells me. Wings made of water... Now that's a sight to dream of on an open sea." I sneezed so loud the entire hall looked up to see what was going on. My hand was covered in mead as the contents of my cup had spilled. 

"Yes, she looked quite majestic," Ragnar said, grinning in his cup. 

"I'd better get home, I think I might be catching a cold." I downed the mug and set it aside. Bjorn put a hand on my arm.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" My heart melted a bit. 

"Yes, I'd like that." As I moved to pick the fur cloak from the ground, I saw Ragnar and Torstein exchanging smug glances. When we walked towards the door I couldn't resist giving them the finger, knowing they were watching us walk out. 

"I still can't believe you did it," Bjorn said. I laughed a bit awkwardly. 

"I must admit I felt a bit pressured, but I'm glad I did it. Even though I'll probably be sick for a bit. Are you disappointed I won't come with?"

"The raid you mean? I am, but I'm sure you have your reasons. What I'm really wondering is how you plan on convincing Horik to change his mind."

"I just thought of it today, actually." Bjorn raised an eyebrow at that. "If people want to believe every shit I take is destined by the gods, why not use that? I still have to work out the details, but I'm sure everything will work out."

"Well, if anyone can, it's you. I've never seen my father just take anyone's word for it, not even Floki's." I was sure he was joking, but his face was serious. He trusted me, even though his life might depend on it. The boy I had come to know had disappeared, and instead, I saw Bjorn for the man he was. It must have been the cold, but I couldn't deny something was fluttering inside me, just for a second. Something warm, and fuzzy.

"I know I'm making you wait," I said, looking down at the ground in front of me as we kept walking. "And I know it must seem unfair."

"I heard it might take some time."

"It's just that I don't like rushing into things."

"I know."

"Still, I want you to hear it from me." We had reached my house and we stood still, facing each other. 

"You've already made me a patient man. I can wait a little longer." As he looked me in the eye, my heart started to flutter again. Had this been my time and age, we'd have kissed by now. It felt so natural to fall back into that old pattern again, but instead, I gave him a hug. He felt so warm and comfortable. With his arms wrapped around me and my head against his chest, I could feel his heart racing, despite the many layers of clothing we both wore. When we parted, he planted a careful kiss on my cheek. 

Smiling shyly, casting him a furtive glance, I went inside. I tried to deny how he had made me feel, putting away the cloak and opening one of Athelstan's books, but I couldn't focus. My mind wandered to Bjorn, and how he would be teased for being happy with just a hug and kissing me on the cheek. I thought back to everything we'd talked about, only now realizing how our banter and his cheekiness had been obvious clues of how he felt about me. 

As far as feelings went, he had a huge head start on me. I was only now starting to notice him as anything other than a friend. I needed to think about this. I needed to feel as well, not just analyze it. When I sneezed again, I decided a long nap would probably be best for now.


	41. Ill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-01-801

Over the week that followed I managed to get a serious case of the flu, leaving me mostly bedridden. It left me with plenty of time to think out the details of my plan for king Horik, and wonder about my feelings for Bjorn. When a knock came to the door I found myself wondering if it was him, the thought giving me a slight hint of horror as well. It turned out to be Siggy, with a small kettle of chicken soup. Some things take longer than a thousand years to change.  
  
"Bjorn has been a bit restless since he brought you home," she said, trying to suppress a smile.  
  
"You know what caused it, no doubt." Siggy couldn't fool me. She knew exactly what had happened.  
  
"I could've sworn you meant you'd break his heart, when you said you'd talk to him."  
  
"Sometimes having a mirror put to your face can make the world seem a lot clearer." Siggy just sighed.  
  
"You'll never stop talking in these weird riddles, will you?"  
  
"They're not riddles, just... figures of speech. You showed me what was going on around me, and then a lot of things fell into place."  
  
"Hmm. That one actually makes sense. Anyway, Bjorn's not the only one being restless. Aslaug's pregnancy is difficult, she's in a lot of pain."  
  
"How's yours going?" She smiled as if she were the sun.  
  
"It's amazing. I've barely had any nausea so far, and Rollo is over the moon. He's already talking to my belly every night before we go to sleep."  
  
"It's his first child, right?" Siggy nodded.  
  
"Torstein got two women pregnant as well, and both claim he's the father. They both want him to take care of them now." I snickered at that.  
  
"Looks like everyone has been getting busy."  
  
"Are you planning to get busy soon, as well?" I didn't like how she had managed to turn the conversation back to Bjorn, but I was desperate to talk about it. Siggy didn't mind hearing all about it, happy to hear me talk about Bjorn the way I did. Despite the difference in age we got along as if we were sisters. I was also friends with Aslaug, Floki, Helga, and even Ragnar to some extent. It didn't matter I was so much younger than them. Why then, would it matter if Bjorn was six years younger than me? So far that had been the most prominent reason to stave off the butterflies in my stomach, but now they were all aflutter.  
  
"If you feel better then, there's a sacrifice planned for Thurseblot. It's in three days, to celebrate Thor for protecting Midgard. No doubt Bjorn will be there." The teenage part of my brain went haywire.  
  
"What should I wear?" Judging by my first reaction, Siggy was very pleased with her plan.  
  
"Come by my house, and I'll help you get ready."


	42. Drinking Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 08-01-801

Three days later I was feeling a lot better. Siggy had helped me pick out a dress from one of her daughter's, who had died some years before. I hadn't known that. Siggy hardly spoke of her past, though I had known she once had two sons. I tried to refuse her offer of getting to keep the dress, but she insisted, even telling me she'd give me all of them. It was about time for her to clean them out, and she felt weird wearing them herself. They did look amazing, and I thought it wasteful to have them thrown out if I wouldn't take them.

Siggy was happy to brush my hair for me, remembering her daughter and her life before Ragnar was Earl. She seemed happy enough with Rollo now, but I could tell she missed her old life all the same. She also wanted to braid my hair, but I was firm on that. I didn't like my hair to be done in intricate ways, thinking the fancy dress was already a fair compromise. Relentless, she made two braids that started behind my ears and wrapped around the rest loosely. If I didn't like it, I could always pull them out.

As it happened, I liked it. It held my hair out of my face, and it made me show more of my face than usual. Siggy gave me a motherly look as if she had known I would like it all along, which I pointedly ignored.

We went out towards the sacrifice, pushing to the front. I got some looks I couldn't quite place but did my best to ignore them. I didn't feel comfortable being all dressed up yet, and I was about to see an animal be slaughtered. That was quite enough for me for the time being. I expected Bjorn to be guiding the animal again, but this time it was Ragnar. Aslaug presided over the ceremony. The animal was a cow, those I hadn't named. Chewy bastards.

"Are you sure you can handle it this time?" I looked up to see Bjorn standing beside me. I quickly glanced over to Siggy on my other side, but she acted like nothing happened. No doubt she'd told Bjorn where to find me, as it was too dark to recognize any faces, despite the torchlight.

"I have gotten used to the sight of blood, if that's what you're worried about." The crowd fell silent as Ragnar approached. "I was just sorry Lucky had to be the one to get sacrificed. He was so sweet."

"Every time you talk of it, you make it sound like we killed a close friend of yours."

"In a way you did."

"Fortunately, you don't like cows. Otherwise, you'd bump into me again. Not that I'd mind..." My eyes opened wide.

"Was that you back then? I could have sworn I hit a wall."

"Is that one of your weird phrases that are supposed to make sense?"

"What has Siggy been telling everyone? She asked me the same thing just a few days ago."

"We've made a game of it. Some of the things you say a lot? We've come up with things it could mean, and whoever gets the most answers right wins the pot." I could only shake my head in mild surprise.

"Why don't you just ask me if you don't understand? All I meant was that you're really muscular." I blushed a bit as I realized I'd complimented him on his body. Bjorn just smiled and carried on.

"Is that the same as standing with your back against the wall?"

"No, that means you don't have anywhere to go and feel threatened."

"And when you feel like running up a wall?" I was starting to see where the confusion was coming from. And this was all based on expressions with only one word.

"Okay, I get why it's confusing."

"How many of those do you know?"

"How many different things are there in the world?" Now Bjorn could only sigh and shake his head.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. I thought about dropping by to see how you were doing, but..." After how we'd said goodbye it would probably have been awkward. Even now I wasn't sure how to carry myself. I doubted every movement, and now I thought about it, everything I might say would probably be stupid and lame.

"Thanks. I'm glad to be better as well." We fell silent as Aslaug started chanting, something about how Thor was invited to witness our sacrifice to him. There were some parts where we were supposed to respond, but I had no idea what was going on. I felt a bit awkward like I had during Yol. Bjorn had explained some of it to me, but I only understood half of it.

When the ritual was over, I didn't know what to say or do. Siggy had left my side without so much as a warning, leaving me alone with Bjorn.

"You want to go get a drink?"

"Yes," I said before he had finished his sentence. We walked towards the hall, where the celebration was already underway. Bjorn went to get us a horn when I saw Floki waving me over. He was clearly well into his cups.

"Ragnhild we're bored! Do you know any drinking games?" I snorted, then started laughing.

"What do you have in mind? Something you can win, something you can use to get Helga naked, something to tease your friends over?" Some quick alcohol was just what I needed to ease my nerves.

"Like you don't know me by now. That last one." I sat down and smiled, knowing this would become a great evening. Bjorn joined us, giving me a cup of ale.

"Floki wants to play a drinking game," I said after he sat down.

"Ragnhild knows a fun one, I can tell already," Floki said with a wicked grin.

"I didn't know you played those," he said as he cocked his head.

"Does it involve flying boats?" Rollo asked.

"No, it doesn't. It's a game where you can find out each other's darkest secrets, if you know how to play it right, and can get shit-faced drunk at the same time."

"I'm out," Torstein said, getting up and walking away. The others seemed interested though, so I explained the rules of Never have I ever. Rollo seemed unsure if he wanted to play, but he gave it a shot anyway.

"Okay, I'll start. Never have I ever been drunk for longer than two whole days." To my surprise, Rollo and I were the only ones who drank. He raised an eyebrow at me, surprised to see me drink as well. Bjorn was up next.

"Never have I ever... cried over a goat being sacrificed." I gave him a dirty look and drank with Helga.

"It was simply beautiful," Helga said. Rollo just snorted, swirling his drink in his hand.

"Never have I ever killed a man," he said. Now Helga was the only one not drinking. "I don't believe you. Are you sure you know the rules?"

"I killed my father about six years ago." He leaned back, a confused look on his face. Floki giggled at this, enjoying the sight of Rollo so out of his element.

"Helga, you're up."

"Never have I ever been so intoxicated I could have sworn I saw a god," she said. Unsurprisingly, she and Floki drank. I once saw a poster of Jimi Hendrix talking to me, but I was pretty sure a guitar god wasn't what she meant.

"Never have I ever," Floki said with a flourish of his hands, "Had sex on a boat." They must have been out to get me. Everyone drank, except Bjorn, whose ears turned red. I eyed him curiously, wondering if he ever had sex before.

"I thought you got sick on boats," he said softly.

"Not if they're beached." I was thinking of using the game to get to know more about Bjorn's previous love life, but I refrained. "Never have I ever been called a godsend," I said to get the men back for making me drink. Floki and Rollo muttered, to my great delight. To my surprise, Ragnar sat down next to Rollo and joined in.

"Never have I ever defied an earl," he said. He himself, Rollo, and I drank. He wasn't done, though. "Never have I ever made an earl doubt my loyalty."

"That's not how this game works," I said.

"Drink." Again, the two of us and Rollo drank.

"Never have I ever abused my power," I shot back. Now, Ragnar was the only one to drink.

"Never have I ever had feelings for one of my sons." I bit my lip for a bit, then drank. It only made the tension rise even further. Now, it was personal.

"Never have I ever cheated on my partner." Ragnar drank.

"Never have I ever had sex with more than ten people." Aside from me, Floki and Helga took a sip. "Twenty." I lifted my cup again.

"Thirty." I wouldn't let him intimidate me.

"Forty-three," I said, downing my cup. I looked Ragnar dead in the eye. "Are you happy now?"

"How many were women?" Rollo asked.

"Eight."

"That's more than you, Rollo," Floki said, trying to break the tension.

"How many raped you?" If I still had ale, I'd have thrown it in his face. Instead, I got up and left. I felt so angry and sad at the same time, I didn't know if I should shout or cry.

"Ragnhild!" I knew Bjorn would come after me, but I didn't want to talk to him. I just wanted to be alone. As I felt his hand on my shoulder, I gasped and almost fell, landing on a knee and both hands.

"Please, don't touch me," I whispered. I wanted to be alone, in my house, and cover myself with every blanket and fur I had. My body felt dirty. I knew I could never scrub off the filth I felt on my hands, though I had tried to scrub down to the bone multiple times over the past years.

"Let me get you home. You'll freeze out here." I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but instead, I got to my feet and slowly started walking. I could feel the tears running down my face, and I somehow had lost a shoe. He didn't touch me, but as I went inside he followed me in.

Without removing the fur cloak, I crawled underneath the covers and wrapped those around me as well. I kept my eyes locked on Bjorn, hoping I could stare him out of my house. Instead of leaving, he put a kettle over the fire and grabbed a mug.

"Where do you keep those weird herbs? Oh, never mind, found them." My eyes narrowed as I saw him put some of the tea mixture in one of my make-shift tea eggs, then followed him as he took off his cloak and sat down at the table. "I was thinking of asking you over for dinner at my house tomorrow, but I understand if you don't feel up for it. I don't have much experience cooking for myself, so I was secretly hoping you'd roll your eyes, tell me to sit down and save what was left of it halfway through." I huffed at that, trying to keep a small smile away from my face. "Now I'll probably starve before the snow has gone. I'm too stubborn to ask Aslaug if I can join them for dinner, after all the fuss I made about living on my own. I don't know how you do it, laundry is such a hassle."

The water in the pot was boiling. Bjorn got up and took the kettle off, scooping water out with the mug itself. He was such a man. I thought he'd hand me the mug, but instead put it down on the table. He was every bit his father's son, I realized. I refused to leave my blanket fort, listening to Bjorn prattle on about trivial things. It helped calm me down, despite the feeling of wanting to push back surging through me.

"It'll get too strong," I finally said. Bjorn just looked at me with kind eyes, not doing anything about the steeping tea. Huffing, I threw off the blankets and cloak. I sat down opposite of Bjorn and removed the tea.

"Thank you," I told his hands. The smell and warmth of the mug soothed me instantly.

"I don't care what happened in your past. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." The tea was still so hot, I almost burned my tongue. "Even Rollo told Ragnar off for what he did." My eyes flashed up to meet his. Rollo had never been a fan of me, seeming almost resentful for the trust Ragnar had always put in me. "I've never seen Helga so mad, either."

"What did you do?"

"I told him to fuck off and mind his own business." Bjorn had never gone against his father, not like that. "He wanted me to know why you wanted to take things slow, but I had guessed as much." Bjorn had a strange way of comforting me without pushing me to tell me what was wrong. As the tea cooled enough to drink, I started to speak.

"When I was fourteen, I wanted to go visit some celebration with a few friends. My father was against it, but I went anyway. We'd just fought over me falling from faith, he was a very strict Christian." I glanced up to see Bjorn's reaction, but he didn't show any judgment. "Some strangers started talking to me and made sure I was so drunk I couldn't walk by myself. They took me outside and raped me over and over. When I got home my father was waiting for me, with a smile on his face. Later I learned he was the one who had set it up."

"No wonder you killed him."

"By Viking standards, I wasn't even a woman yet. I felt like I couldn't tell anyone and kept it to myself for a long time. After I left that house, I wasn't prepared for how easy it was for men to take advantage of me. There were some good guys, but most of them were scum. They'd have died, were they to try something like that here. Eventually, I just stopped caring and spent my days getting drunk and high a lot. I tried to get help a few times, but it was too little, too late. The day I came here was the day I had planned to end my life." Bjorn didn't know how to respond to my story. I just sipped my tea, reliving some of the lowest points in my life.

"Does Ragnar know any of this?"

"He knows about how I left home and what I had planned to do when I came here. Anything else he and the others might have guessed at."

"But you're not sure if your father is dead, right?"

"With the distance between us right now, he might as well be. He may have survived me stabbing him, but I know he'll never hurt me again."

"And now all you want to be is happy. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

"You're already doing it."

When I finished my mug of tea, Bjorn left. He made no attempts to touch me, but he did ask if it was okay if he dropped by tomorrow. Instead, I told him I'd drop by his place for dinner. Despite the bad turn of events this evening, I did feel like I could trust Bjorn a little more now. He left with a bright smile on his face.


	43. Horik's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-02-801

A little over a moon later, I had finally forgiven Ragnar. I was sure he'd never had to try so hard to convince a woman to talk to him again, except for Lagertha when she left him. The ice had started to break early this year, which meant the visit from king Horik was fast approaching. Ragnar didn't dare insult me by doubting my plan, but I knew he was getting nervous.

The day before Valentine's Day, ships were spotted in the distance, and no one wondered who had come our way. Ragnar and his family waited for Horik's arrival on the beach, while I remained in the hall, fussing over my dress while Siggy reminded me of the proper etiquette when meeting a king. Her belly getting big, I tried to get her to sit down, but she wouldn't have any of it. If anything, her pregnancy meant she cracked down on me even harder, wanting me to do everything at least as well as she did.

"I'll be fine, we've been over this at least a hundred times. Siggy, think of yourself for just a minute." The doors opened wide, and the visitors barged in.

"You, girl, get me and my son a drink!" I stood up, not knowing what to do with this. Did I really seem so young in his eyes? Did I really look like a servant? I couldn't let him disrespect me like that if the plan was to work.

"You, boy, didn't your mother teach you manners?" He got in my face, looming over me. I didn't have to look over my shoulder to know Siggy was having a heart attack.

"Who do you think you are? You're talking to a king!"

"The last man that asked me questions he should have known the answers to had to pay for it for at least a moon." Ragnar stepped beside us, throwing me an unnerved look.

"King Horik, this is Ragnhild. She's the woman you heard so much about." He called for a servant to get his guests some drinks. Horik had the decency to feel a bit uneasy. My gamble had paid off, Horik thought I was deserving of his respect just based on my reputation, somehow.

"My apologies, Ragnhild, I did not know who I was speaking to." I stood a little taller, then softened a little.

"Obviously you must be tired from your trip. Please, warm up by the fire." As everyone found a seat and got a drink, the tension died down again. Ragnar shot me a glance asking me what I was thinking, but I ignored him. For my plan to work, I needed Horik to respect and trust me, if only a little. Having him walk all over me wouldn't do that. I sat down next to him, asking about the trip and his family. The son on his other side was called Ari, apparently his heir. When he returned the favor, I told him my family members were all dead, making quick work of a nasty topic.

"Though I am happy to talk to you of my family, surely you must have known what I told you already," he said.

"Someone once told me not to believe everything you hear, as it is better to go on what you know." Horik didn't miss the implication I made, wanting to talk to him further without anyone else there so we could speak freely.

"You have arrived at a most auspicious time, King Horik," Aslaug said. "Tomorrow is not only the celebration of Valisblot but also the day Ragnhild came here two years ago."

"I thought she only arrived at the Thing." Horik had done his research, though it was a bit flawed. Ari didn't respond at all. He was quiet and kept to himself. He either was not fond of these forced niceties or failed to see their significance. I'd have to keep my eye on him.

"Aslaug refers to the day I appeared at the lake. We only found out recently." If his informants were so behind, it might prove beneficial if Horik kept using them as far as Kattegat was concerned.

"She was given a weaved cloth detailing her arrival. I'm sure you'd enjoy seeing it," Ragnar said. He seemed to understand my need to speak to Horik in private, but I felt a bit uneasy at the obviousness of it all.

"You know I don't like bringing it out."

"Now I definitely want to see it. Is it alright if I and Ari come over to see it tomorrow?" I hesitated.

"I'm sure Ragnhild won't mind," Ragnar said with a forced smile. Even Ari could see through it. "She just worries about her humble abode. Though we try to help her out from time to time, she has refused our offers of new furniture. Hers falls apart when you look at it." Horik sized me up at hearing that.

"I don't like to receive gifts. Even gifts that are freely given. I like to earn my keep and tend to prefer collecting herbs and spices over furniture." Having simple luxuries like tea and eating food that wasn't bland took most of my money these days. It was often cheaper to buy weapons than pepper. Horik didn't know what to make of this. Ari just stared at the fire.

"But surely, a woman like you..."

"She has a mind of her own, King Horik. You'll find that out soon enough."

"Will I? You people sure know how to build up anticipation."

"Oh, all right. Does tomorrow around noon suit you?"

"Ari and I will be there. The boy could do with a little culture and seeing how other people live."

"I'm sure the entire village knows where I live. It's the one without animal skulls everywhere. I tried to plant some flowers in front of it last fall, but I'm afraid they won't show for at least another moon."

"Why would you want to plant flowers in front of your house?" Ari asked.

"Because they look nice. I prefer my house to be filled and surrounded by living things, not dead ones. There's plenty of death to go around as it is." Ari just raised an eyebrow, then turned back to the fire again. He reminded me of an angsty teenager.

"I can see what you mean, Ragnar. I'm looking forward to getting to know her."

"Let me know how that goes. After two years that woman is still full of surprises." Ragnar and his family fell into a number of stories about weird things I'd done, with me defending my choices and opinions when they were grossly misrepresented. They were mostly harmless, though, about the goats I had named, the weird stories I'd tell the children, me swimming in the icy cold sea, and Hvitserk insisted on telling our guests how it had seemed to be like I was flying over the water with wings made of water. After that one, I excused myself and went outside for a bit. After relieving myself I waited outside to hear if they'd changed the subject or not. Ari came outside, seeming surprised to see me standing.

"Why are you out here? It's cold."

"I'm waiting for them to move on. I don't like it when people are talking about me like that. Or at all." He gave me a curious look. He went through his hair with his fingers, and only now I could see his eyes. They were green the way mother nature had intended the color to be.

"Don't you like the attention?"

"No. I'm not used to it. And it's not like I chose to be the vessel of Freyja. Sometimes I feel like they celebrate every time I fart." Ari had to choke back a laugh.

"I know what you mean. All my life I've been prepped to take over for my father one day. It's depressing, really. I can't fulfill my destiny until he dies, and people love to remind me every time they see me. 'Prince Ari! Please kiss my baby! Prince Ari! Don't let your guard down! Prince Ari! You have to behave!' It's sickening. And now my father wants me to go raiding with him in England. Like that's somehow different from the Baltic." Ari was really good at playing a moody teenager. I was happy to join in on his ranting.

"I get it. Sometimes I just want to take a swim without people thinking I'm performing some miracle or another. I just want to feel human. I'm more than just a title."

"Exactly! People so easily assume it's a blessing, but I think it's a curse. I could never become a blacksmith or a fisherman. I can't even choose."

"My father had my entire life planned out for me. I was to become a merchant like him. Where I come from, women can do everything men can do, in a way they're even more free than here. But I didn't want to do that. I wanted to learn about everything. He was so disappointed I couldn't adhere to his perfect image of a perfect family. So when I did what I wanted to, he withdrew his support. I had to spend a full day learning, and then work in the evenings just to be able to buy food." I had chosen to try and support myself, but I didn't relish the idea of having to tell a near stranger I killed my father and cut off ties, thereby forcing that fate on myself.

"That sounds rough."

"It was. I barely got by. Some friends would invite me for dinner sometimes, just so I could have a warm meal every now and then."

"At least you did what you wanted to. That's worth a lot, too." I couldn't help but scoff at that.

"It is a nice thought, but good luck filling your stomach with it. Morals and dreams fall away very fast when you have to survive. They're a luxury only affordable to those who manage to keep a roof over their heads, and food in their bellies."

"I've never wanted for anything in my life, safe for a quiet, peaceful day without anyone fussing over me or my future."

"We all judge by the harshness of our own lives. If you cast off your problems based on the cruelest things this world has to offer, you'd never deal with them. Just because you never had to fight hunger doesn't mean your pains aren't just as real. They're just different."

"That sounds like something a grandma would say."

"What, am I too old-fashioned for you?"

"No, it's just... You sound so wise. As if you've lived an entire life, twice over." In a way I had.

"I've spoken to many wise people, and some of it stuck."

"Then the stories are true. People come from all across Scandinavia for your wisdom." I shook my head.

"Some of the traders heard of me and came by, but I've only known of one man who claimed to come all the way from Denmark to ask for my advice. I think it's just one of those rumors that got out of hand."

"When they started talking about you, I was certain you'd be a brat."

"That's only because they tell you the good ones. You won't hear them tell how I cried when I first saw a goat sacrificed, or how I spent my first two weeks here in bed with a fever and a concussion. It's all just for show."

"Is that why you want to talk to my father in private?" So he did have a set of brains and eyes to see.

"Part of it. Ragnar wants to show me off, did you hear about earl Arvid? He killed him and took over his lands just because he tried to talk to him about me. I appeared at this lake, and the village near it was closer to Egersund than it was to Kattegat."

"This Arvid wanted to stake his claim? I can understand why Ragnar wouldn't let him."

"Oh, he gave the man a fair shot. Then he killed him anyway. It still sickens me that people have died because of me. I don't like death, especially done in someone else's name."

"Then you wouldn't approve of someone dying for preaching false gods?"

"That's a pretty weird jump to make, but yes... I'd let the man live. Killing someone over what they believe is just cruel. Most of the time they can't even help it."

"I tried to tell my father the same. There was a Christian priest that tried to convert some farmers, and he was brought before us. I figured a good whipping would do, but my father chose to kill him."

"That's harsh." This kid might be more like me than I'd thought. "There was a Christian priest here, once. He chose to stay in England with your father though, he didn't return after he joined Ragnar on the raid west."

"He lived here?"

"He taught me Norse. He was one of the few people to treat me like a human being when I was still a slave. His name was Athelstan."

"I heard about him. My father was very surprised Ragnar let him live."

"I don't know why Ragnar chose to let him live. I guess for information, mostly, and learning the English language. He came along to help translate things, I think."

"No wonder Ragnar is so successful. That's what I was hoping to do with the priest that came to us." My mind wandered to simpler times when Athelstan was still here. He could always make me see what it was I was blind to when it came to things like this. He would then ask me what I would do if I was in their position.

"Forgive me if it's rude to ask, but what kind of king would you want to be?" A smile came to his face.

"I want to go exploring. I want to see what else is out there. I want to find new lands and cities, go where no Viking has gone before."

"Doesn't every man dream of that?"

"They may dream it, but when reality hits they all do the same. They just want to provide good raiding opportunities, so their people will stay satisfied. It's what my father does."

"You make it sound like he once dreamed the same dream, but got distracted by the need to stay in power."

"Father wanted to keep the family together more than he wanted to fulfill his dream."

"Dreams can change. I used to want to become a healer, or travel across the stars. I was sure I'd find a way. Now I just want to find happiness."

"Travel across the stars? How would you even think of something like that?"

"People used to tell me the sky was the limit. I didn't believe them." Ari had to laugh again.

"It's really strange to hear so much about you and see almost nothing is true when I meet you."

"What did you hear that is true?"

"I was told you were beautiful." I felt a shiver run down my spine. Had Ari taken our conversation to be me flirting with him? Or was he just not up to speed I'd been seeing Bjorn? Or did he simply not care and thought he'd throw his lot in? "Does that surprise you?"

"A little. I hadn't expected you to say something like that."

"Well, it's true. I can't lie to a woman that's so completely honest to me."

"At least that's a compliment I can accept. You think it's safe to go back inside?"

"I'll go inside with you, but only after you answer this last question." This could go so many ways, I braced myself internally as I nodded my head. "Do you think I'll be able to follow my dream?" The purity of his question made me smile.

"That depends," I said, seeing Ari's smile disappear a bit. "How much are you willing to give up for it?" He turned around to walk back inside.

"I was hoping for a more straightforward answer."

"If you don't want the truth, don't ask me such questions."

"I'll remember that. I have to think about your answer for a bit."

"Just don't spend too much time in there," I said as I put a finger to his temple. "Don't forget to live a little while you're at it, that you do with your heart."

"You make no sense." I laughed out loud, hearing those words from someone who had never even talked to Floki.

"You have no idea how true that is."


	44. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-02-801

Horik and Ari were a bit early coming over. I had spent most of the morning cleaning up, but still had some dishes to do. The door burst open and I hastily some dish rags over a few dirty cups. Hvitserk instantly went for my legs, his newest way of greeting me.

"Well, good morning there! You mind letting go of my legs for a bit?"

"I wanted to see the blanket too!"

"But you've seen it at least a thousand times."

"And now I want to see it for a thousand and one times!" I rolled my eyes and turned to Horik and Ari.

"The lad insisted you were fine with him storming your door like that, and was happy to show us to your house."

"He's not wrong. He and his brother regularly come crashing in for all sorts of things. Please, come in. Can I offer you something to drink?" Horik and Ari took a look around my house, seeming not so much shocked at the state of the furniture as they were surprised by my collection of weird artifacts. There was a Kris knife from Indonesia, which had been sold to me as a decorative blade perfect for women, a tapestry from the middle east, depicting vast mountain ranges and some shepherds, a slate of pink marble I imagined came from Rome, chop sticks that could've just as easily been made here, skeins of yarn in all kinds of colors I had meant to knit into a nice scarf, a shredded piece of fabric depicting half an elephant and two zebras, and a small wooden windmill I'd fashioned from some wood scraps Floki had left lying around.

"This is no doubt the strangest house I have ever been in," Ari said as he spun around the blades of the windmill. Horik bumped his elbow into his son's back.

"You're not the first to say so. If you want, you can look around. They're from all over the world." His eyes went big at that. "I got all of it from traders who thought Viking wouldn't have any interest in it. It reminds me of how big the world is, and how little we know of it. It fills me with wonder, just thinking about it." Hvitserk was already sitting at the table, eager to see the blanket and getting somewhat impatient.

"Can we see the blanket now?"

"First we have to get our guests something to drink, don't you think? King Horik?" He tore his gaze away from my décor and snapped back to reality.

"Whatever you have will be fine."

"Ale it is, then." I rummaged around looking for the empty barrel that had held some until Bjorn had come by late last night.

"Oh, shoot," I said as I saw the bottom of the barrel. "Hvitserk, can you do me a really, really big favor?" The boy nodded. "Can you run to the hall and bring some ale? I thought I still had some, but it seems I'm all out."

"But I want to see the blanket! And the king said he's fine with water..." Standing up I threw Horik a wink.

"You remember how beautiful it is, right? I'm sure king Horik will enjoy it even more with some ale in his hand. I promise we'll wait for you to get back here."

"Ragnhild speaks true, little Hvitserk. You can't keep a king waiting for long, can you?" Hvitserk let himself slide off the seat with a tormented look on his face.

"Okay," he sighed. "But you have to pinky promise!" I sank down to my knees and put out a pinky. He locked his in mine.

"I pinky promise we'll wait for you to get back." Kissing my own thumb, Hvitserk was satisfied and ran out of the door.

"Those boys will murder for you someday," Horik said with a curious smile.

"I'd murder for them. He'll be back in a bit, though."

"So, now we've got some privacy. What do you want to talk about? Ari, come sit with us, this is important." Ari tore his eyes away from the Kris knife.

"I'll tell you about all of it later, but first I want to ask what I cannot talk of in front of Ragnar's son. It's about Jarl Borg." Horik and Ari were not expecting me to start off so brashly.

"What about him?"

"I want to know what happened between him and you before I got here. No one has given me a straight answer, and I am determined to find out."

"How so? What could you hope to gain?"

"I want to form an opinion about someone close to it, but I need more information. I will tell you who it is when you've told me your side of the story."

"I could use a horn of ale right about now," Ari sighed. "It was over some disputed lands. Jarl Borg claimed them as his own, but they were ours."

"Jarl Borg wouldn't let down. He insisted we could come to an agreement, but I refused. I sent Ragnar to settle it for me."

"So that's how he fits in. What happened?"

"Ragnar sent back a messenger to discuss terms, but I wouldn't have it."

"A bold move." Foolish, but bold nonetheless.

"It came to blows, but eventually Rollo couldn't kill his brother. Ragnar shoved our heads together and made us see reason. We decided to raid England together, the three of us joining forces." And from what Ari had told me, Horik needed to placate his people after having to pay tribute to Jarl Borg.

"So, you want Ragnar to free the Jarl in order to fulfill an oath you swore?"

"Nothing gets past you, does it? Indeed, I swore on my armband I would do my best to make it so, and if I do not try..." He was afraid of losing his place in Valhalla.

"Who are you interested in?" Ari asked.

"Torvi." This was a surprise to both of them. "I met her after Borg was defeated, and I felt compassion for her. She is nothing but a victim of circumstance, it seems. I want to speak to Ragnar on her behalf."

"Is he planning on killing her, too?" Horik showed a hint of doubt on his face.

"No, not that I know. But I want her to be safe. I fear she might be left to fend for her own, and I think that is too cruel a fate for a woman with child."

"I didn't know that," Horik said, stroking his beard pensively. "The child then is Jarl Borg's rightful heir."

"The sins of the father are not the sins of the son. We are all free to make our own choices, and if the shadow of a man like Jarl Borg manages to scare anyone, I will call them a coward and a liar." Ari narrowed his eyes at my words. Horik just looked flabbergasted.

"You must know how this world works by now. Leaving an heir alive, even a girl..."

"I may not know the gods as you do, but if any of them condones the murder of babes I will denounce them right here, right now." It was obvious king Horik hadn't heard someone talking like that to him in a very, very long time. Even Ari cast a furtive glance at his father to gauge his reaction. I was afraid I'd overdone it, but he started laughing.

"Ari, my son, please... should she ever decide to pick up a sword, make sure I'm on her side of the battlefield! Such fire and passion, I have rarely seen that before. Ragnar told me the two of you met, only for a minute or so. And you defend her as if she's your cub!" He wiped away a tear that was forming in his eye. "You'd dare risk my wrath, and defy an earl, for what?"

"Kindness." It was the first thing that came to mind, and it was true. Getting caught in a lie after such a bold claim would remove any credibility I had managed to build.

"My son was right. You don't make any sense. I will talk to Ragnar for you if you so wish. I'll tell him not to harm her, or her child. He'd be a fool not to listen to you."

"It never hurts to have a king backing my cause. I'd be very happy if you'd find a moment to broach the subject on your raid to England."

"I told Ragnar to keep that news to himself." His smile had gone. I had to tread carefully, but I couldn't show the same change in expression he did.

"You sent a messenger to tell him that. Are you certain there were no others around when he broke the news to Ragnar?"

"The messenger was quite sure. Only Ragnar and his son were there." There was my loophole.

"Which son?" I asked with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

"The one who was just here," Horik said with his eyes narrowed. "So that's why you sent him off on an errand."

"They may be Ragnar's sons, but they love telling me about their day. Some messenger coming by from Denmark certainly was a highlight in Hvitserk's. But rest assured, I am not aware of all that happens here in Kattegat. Otherwise, I'd never have had to ask about Torvi. I catch a few scraps every now and then. Hvitserk probably had no idea it was to be kept a secret, as did I."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Whatever the boys tell me, I keep to myself. I would never betray their trust."

"I spoke to her yesterday, father. I've never met a woman as honest as her. She speaks the truth."

"You barely spoke for more than five minutes."

"And she only spoke to Torvi for two. She was willing to face you off after just that." Torvi and I talked a lot more since then, but there was no need to draw them away out of their discussion with details like that.

"And what exactly did the two of you talk about?" I waved a hand at Ari, signaling he could choose what to tell his father. I wouldn't betray his trust when it was my trustworthiness on the line. Having his own son vouch for me would pretty much guarantee my plan to be successful.

"I told her how hard it can be to have to wear a title, and she told me to suck it up." I was pretty sure that wasn't what I'd said, but it seemed to placate Horik immensely. The topic had come up between them before, and Horik seemed pleased I'd come to the same conclusion. As I looked at Ari, he winked at me with his left eye, furthest away from his father. I smiled at the difference in reactions of the pair. Internally I cursed myself. Ari was now a loose strand, and he could unravel the entire thing in a second.

"I'm glad she agrees with me on the subject. We all have our parts to play, and that's final."

"Yes, father." Ari kept his eyes downcast.

"I can't believe you'd talk to her about such things. You barely know her."

"I know her well enough. She told me of the hardships she's had to endure. She put my entire perspective on life in a new light." Had I really made such an impact, or was this still an act he put up for his father?

"There is something else I'd like to discuss." I really needed to talk about it before Hvitserk was back, but I didn't want to rush things, either.

"More surprises?" Horik snorted.

"A question, actually. As you said I'm still a bit unfamiliar with this world, and I was wondering... Why would you choose to raid England? What do you hope to achieve there?"

"Why, riches of course. It's a rich land, with little protection." I narrowed my eyes.

"To the east, there's the Baltic lands and the Kievan Rus'. To the west is England, and to the north is our own country. But what is south?"

"Denmark, or course."

"And what lies south of Denmark?"

"Mostly Germanic tribes, who are almost constantly at war between each other, and some Saxon settlements. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm wondering where England gets its riches from. It's an island, and though it has great farming lands, I've never heard of mines there other than iron. Then it begs the question, where do they get it from?" Horik sat back at that, thinking over my words.

"There are some silver and gold mines, but those have run dry for a few decades. I can't imagine they'd have mined enough to account for all the treasure found at the few monasteries Ragnar has visited. But... South of us are some people who are known to trade a lot."

"The Saxons?" I asked, knowing the answer to be no.

"They're a people called the Frisians." I took in a deep breath, shifting a bit in my seat. "You know of them?"

"I do, actually. Some of my ancestors were Frisians, many centuries ago. We still regard them as great traders, who have gathered much infamy by extortion and trading valuable goods." Horik's eyes started to show a twinkle. As I'd expected, he had no knowledge of the Frisians as I did, knowing they came from south of what I knew as Germany.

"Really, now?"

"It's also rumored they used to build their houses on large mounds of dirt to protect themselves from the sea."

"Now that I can confirm. I have seen them for myself once and thought it looked ridiculous. But since the land is mostly flat, I suppose the water is a good reason to elevate their houses." To my great sorrow, Hvitserk came bursting in again, swinging the door wide open. I gave Horik an apologetic look before turning to the boy.

"I didn't expect you to get back so soon. Did you manage?"

"I did! Father told me I should let someone help me, but we made a pinky promise so it had to be me." Putting a hand to my heart, I just looked at him for a second or two. He was just so freaking adorable.

"Let me help you with that," Ari said as Hvitserk tried to get the small barrel upright.

"It was too heavy to carry, so I rolled it all the way here! Just like you told me. If you don't have the muscles, you just have to use your mind."

"That is so clever of you!" I put up a hand, and he smacked it with his. "Well done, I'm so proud of you." I put a hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the top of his head. "Why don't I get the king and his son some of that delicious ale you got us, and then we can see the blanket." Hvitserk climbed into a seat, looking ready as ever. Ari had already opened the barrel for me and put it in place of the previous one. When all three of us had a cup of ale, Hvitserk almost jumped out of his seat.

"Well, what are you waiting for? You know where it is, right?" Happy to have been bestowed such an honor, he went directly for the chest I kept it in and took it out with a hint of reverence. He tried to shake it out as he had seen me do before, but his arms were far too short. The blanket fell to the floor, instead. Hvitserk's eyes went from giddy to uncertain in the blink of an eye.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Being enthusiastic? I know you didn't do it on purpose. Come on, let's try again together." Hvitserk picked up the blanket and I helped him put it out on the table.

"Have you had children yourself? You have this touch of a mother to you."

"I don't. I just have a way with people, no matter their age." The king glanced at Ari as if to remind him of the evidence of my words. Ari didn't notice his father looking, as he was mesmerized by the blanket.

"It's incredible," Ari breathed. Horik's face looked just as awestruck.

"Where did you say you got this?" I told Horik the story of how I had gone back to the village of Wilfrid, adding in rich details that weren't necessarily true but could be woven in quite nicely.

"I'm a bit embarrassed about it, to be honest. Helga told me I should hang it on the wall but having something with my face on it just seems so strange. Where I come from, that's something only rich, fat men do."

"You certainly don't fit any of that description. It's a shame though, it's a true work of art."

"I'm still surprised a dying woman spent all she had on this. Not just money, but the time it must have taken her..."

"At least two years," Horik said. Wait, two years? Selby hadn't lived for two years after I came here.

"But that means Selby started on it before I got here. She wasn't known as a Seeress in her village." Horik saw my surprise and gave me a knowing smile.

"Some keep their skills hidden from others, out of fear for how it might change their lives. They have other ways of guiding the fates of others to the right path." Was Horik truly thinking I had visions of some sort as well? Or was he hinting that he knew what I was getting at, trying to get him to change his mind on behalf of Ragnar?

"I'm not sure I understand, King Horik."

"You don't have to play coy with me. I know what you've been doing." Apparently farting in his general direction was enough to make him believe what I had wanted him to.

"It's wonderful. Have you read this, father?" Horik turned to read them.

"I'm still not able to read runes. It was Hvitserk that told me what it said." Hvitserk took great pride in that, looking around the room with a big smile on his face. "I really should learn, though. Many a time I show this to someone new, I learn something new about it."

"It tells a grand story. No doubt you'll learn more from it that you can possibly imagine. Thank you for showing me. We won't take up any more of your precious time." He stood up and grabbed Ari by his elbow. When he had left, I just stared at the door.

"It's so pretty," Hvitserk said. I turned to him and saw he was stroking the wings. I wondered what Horik had seen that I couldn't.


	45. Heirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-02-801

Ragnar was not happy when I saw him again. He made a show of fighting in public with Aslaug, which resulted in two children coming to me for comfort.

"It's okay, boys. Let's go outside for a bit, okay? I think I saw some nice seashells on the beach." Hvitserk had taken to his brother and didn't like to hold my hand anymore. Now, however, he wanted to be carried. Even Ubbe walked so close next to me he might as well have held my hand.

"What are they fighting about?" I asked. I'd only caught some cursing back and forth in the short time I was in the hall.

"About the raid. Mother thinks it's ridiculous to go to Frisia just because Horik says so." So either this fight was all part of Ragnar's plan and Aslaug played along, or Aslaug was oblivious and the children were part of this by mistake. Knowing how much Ragnar loved his sons, it was more likely Aslaug had been kept in the dark. The games that were played influenced not just the players, I had to remember that.

"What do you think about it?"

"I think mother needs to shut up." What did he just say? "Horik is a king, father can't just do what he wants when that man is here. He swore an oath. Besides, she's been cranky ever since she got pregnant again."

"She just sleeps and feels sorry for herself. That's what father said," Hvitserk said.

"You can't say that so easily. Every pregnancy is different. Just like you two are different, despite having the same parents."

"It's not just that," Ubbe said with his grown-up thinking face. "Mother is a princess since birth. She married below her station, and she's grown resentful of losing her title. Horik being here only makes it worse." He sounded like he had memorized the words from a different conversation.

"I hadn't known that. I thought she'd kept the title."

"No. Athelstan told me of how they call it in England, and she'd be called a... Duchees?"

"A duchess. So that would make you the Duke of Egersund if Ragnar were to grant you that courtesy."

"Would it? How do you know?"

"I just know." Years of swooning over Prince Harry would do that to a girl. "Ragnar would be Duke Sigurdsson of Kattegat and Egersund, and you'd be Duke of Egersund. Aslaug then is Duchess of Kattegat."

"What would I be?" Hvitserk asked. I sucked some air between my teeth.

"You'd be a Lord of Kattegat and Egersund." Unless... Ubbe wasn't Ragnar's eldest son. Bjorn was his firstborn, meaning he'd hold the courtesy title of Duke. But that depended on whether or not Bjorn was Ragnar's heir. And if things kept going in the right direction...

"What are you then? Do you have a title?" Hvitserk asked.

"I think the title Vessel of Freyja is pretty neat. No one else can claim that honor, as far as I know."

"Yeah, but I mean if you marry Bjorn."

"I guess that depends on what Bjorn wants to do. If he will become earl if Ragnar dies, then I guess he'd be the earl, and if we marry I would take over from your mother." Would I even want that?

"But mother said I'd take over from father," Ubbe said, sounding insecure now.

"I guess we know what they've been fighting over. It depends on what Ragnar decides. If he names you his successor, Bjorn will lose his title. And if he names Bjorn his successor, you'd be Bjorn's heir until he has a son." Ragnar probably refused to make a decision that important until Ubbe was older and capable of leading. Who knew what would happen in the meantime? If Ragnar were to die soon, Bjorn would be the obvious choice no matter what he'd wanted. "Would you be terribly upset if Bjorn were to become earl?"

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I always just assumed I'd be next in line."

"What if I become earl?" Hvitserk asked.

"Well, Bjorn and Ubbe would have to denounce their claim, or they would have to die. So I don't think you'd really want that, would you?" His face turned a bit pale. "But a good earl knows he can't do it alone. He needs people to turn to for guidance. I'm sure you'll be smart enough to help Ubbe, or Bjorn, whatever happens. You'll still be a Lord, no matter what. You'll have a lot more freedom and can choose to do whatever you want." This seemed like a good prospect, as he started to regain some of his color.

"Do you want to become an earl's wife?" Ubbe asked.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. Once, the earl of Egersund asked me if I wanted to become his wife, but I declined. I'd have to move there, and I'd have to miss out on spending time with you guys. So I turned him down."

"Really? You'd rather be with us than be a duchees?"

"Am I not still here? I wouldn't miss you guys growing up for the world." I'd given up more offers to keep the boys in my life. Spending so much time with them, day in, day out, I couldn't imagine my life in this time without them.

"Would you stay here if I become earl?" Ubbe tried to hide his insecurity, but knowing I didn't look down on feelings, he might not have tried as hard as when he'd ask someone else that question.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I would!" A big smile appeared on his face. "Who else would make sure you eat all your vegetables?" Still, if Bjorn and I would still be together by then, there might be a chance I'd leave with him. But it made no sense to think in such hypotheticals. This was all way off in the future.

After half an hour it started to rain, and we went back inside. Ragnar and Aslaug were no longer fighting, and a quiet calm had taken over the hall. Aslaug called over the boys, and I sat down to join Ragnar in his solitude. He was brooding over a horn of ale.

"Mind if I join?"

"You already have. What did you tell Horik?"

"I just farted in his general direction. After I told him some bullshit story about how my ancestors are from Frisia, and asked him where he thought the gold and silver in England comes from, he only had to see the blanket to realize I was a Seeress trying to give him some hidden message." Ragnar scoffed.

"How did you know he was a superstitious git?"

"He gave off that crazy vibe Floki has as well. And his son told me Horik killed a Christian for preaching against the gods. Apparently, you're the only one who keeps a pet Christian around."

"You're spending too much time with Floki," he scowled at his cup.

"I'm spending too much time with your children. We had the most interesting conversation just now."

"What did they tell you?"

"About how you two are fighting a lot. You haven't let her in on the plan. I'm taking a wild guess here and say it's about more than just Horik."

"Hence the drink in my hand and the scowl on my face. You can't suddenly have a vision about that, can you? It'd be a great help."

"I'm not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. It's quite the dilemma." I leaned back, resting my elbows on the table as Ragnar did.

"Talking about dilemmas. Do you know what Horik asked me to do?" Ragnar signaled to a servant to get us both fresh drinks.

"He wants you to release Borg." We remained silent as the servant brought us our drinks.

"Surprise after surprise with you, isn't it? You seem to know things you have no business knowing. Should I be worried you're keeping secrets from me?"

"You know of the secret I keep from you, and that you'll find out one day. Other than that, you know me pretty well. It's just my skills you're unfamiliar with."

"Horik says we can use him in our upcoming raid." And thus, his loyalty to Horik was tested. Playing to only reluctantly joining to Frisia was one thing, but the Jarl...

"The promise Horik swore was for a raid to the west. Frisia is to the south. He can't dispute that. Even so, there is one simple solution to all of your problems. But you won't like it. And neither would I."

"Kill them both, make Ubbe my heir, and send Bjorn to rule Denmark. It crossed my mind."

"That would leave Bjorn unprotected in a land he's lived in for only four years. You'd never do that to him. You don't want him to die."

"What did you have in mind, then?"

"What we're doing right now. Grab a horn and wait for it all to blow over."

"You'd have me wait?"

"No one knows what the fates hold. Both decisions can wait for another year. Let the bastard rot, play a few mind games, make him torment himself most of all. It's the waiting that makes it worse, anyway. Not knowing what will happen when. Go off raiding, see if you can persuade Horik to change his mind. Wait until your new son is born and see how Aslaug feels then. Make sure it's not just her pregnancy that makes her on edge like this. In any case, take some time to think it over. These are both big decisions, you should wait for a bit to see if the tides easily sway."

"That makes sense. Perhaps you are right." Perhaps he just needed someone to tell him everything will work out in the end. With him and Aslaug at odds again, he must have been feeling lonely. Floki was off to the boatyard at his house, Bjorn still resented his father for what he did to me, and I'd kept him in the dark on one of the biggest things that worried him.

"Thank you for trusting me on this. I know you hate not feeling in control." Ragnar showed a wan smile, tired even though it was barely two hours past noon.

"Had I known what he was going to say, I would've laughed at him. You should've heard. He kept on raving how lucky I was to have you around, and how passionate and kind and strong... He kept going on and on. I guess I should've known you were trouble when you walked in here. Thankfully it seems to be working out in my favor now."

"You did know I was trouble. But you let your curiosity get the better of you. A trait Ubbe seems to have learned, too, you should know. He's making some very astute observations, and seems to have a knack for connecting certain things."

"Good. Then maybe he can find out what the hel you are." I smiled, not knowing what else to do. He had exhausted all his options and had gone back to a few of the ideas he had discarded early on.

"I'm human, just like you."

"And where do you come from?"

"What do you think?"

"Another realm, perhaps. Or maybe you're a goddess sent here without her memories of what she is. Maybe you're just a figment of my imagination." Ragnar took a big swallow, then sighed.

"So you got nothing."

"I also have trouble figuring out why you are here," he said as he turned to me.

"What did the Seer tell you when you asked him?"

"He told me you hold our fate in your hands."

"He told me the same. Let me tell you one thing, though. It might help you let it go just a little bit." Ragnar had not expected me to say anything at all on the matter, so he jerked up his head as he realized what I meant. "If anyone finds out where I'm from, I won't be able to steer the fates into a positive one. I have to keep the secret not just for myself, but for everyone."

"That tells me nothing."

"Which is why I feel free to tell you. Does it help?"

"Strangely, it does. I must say, you have the most peculiar effect on those around you."

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"It is, I suppose. But I wonder how long you will stay here."

"This is not what I'd expect of you. Do you fear that you have to miss me, or do you fear having to face off against me? Has ruling really made you so jaded?"

"I think your answer speaks in and of itself."

"You heard Horik about what I want to ask on behalf of Torvi. About him not wanting to have to fight against me should I ever decide to pick up a sword. Let me put your mind at ease. The only reason I could think of to want to kill anyone is if they threaten to hurt the ones I love. And I wouldn't use a sword for that."

"You don't need a sword to kill a man. You'd just make someone kill your enemy for you. It'd be over before I know it."

"I may know your weaknesses, but you know mine as well. You have just as much power over me as I have over you."

"So you're telling me to trust you, as you do me. The trouble with that is that I barely know what you're capable of."

"Neither do I. I possess much knowledge, but most of it is irrelevant to this place. I don't know what might be of use someday."

"Maybe the worst part of this entire day is how badly you pity me," he said with a sigh.

"I could smack you in the face if that'll make you feel better." He bumped a shoulder against mine.

"Now you're just being mean." His mood did improve, though. "Do I dare ask how things are going between you and Bjorn?" I had to snicker at that. I'd never heard him talk so cautiously.

"It's going well. He can finally make some food without burning it." Ragnar sighed. I knew that wasn't what he was talking about. "And we've been talking a lot. About me, about him, about us..."

"And?"

"It's going well."

"Do you plan on giving me more than that?"

"It's just weird talking to you about it. He's your son. And I like to think of you as a friend."

"Well then, pretend I'm Floki. What would you tell him?"

"I'd tell him we kissed last week."

"A kiss? Are you sure you're not moving too fast?" I shot him a dirty look. "What? That's what Floki would say."

"Well then, Floki. Fuck off, you know how that's a big thing for me. It takes time to build trust, but with me it takes even longer. Bjorn knows that and is still willing to take the time for it."

"And will that trust be gone if he makes a mistake?"

"That's not something Floki would ask."

"And yet, I want to know."

"Of course I know Bjorn will someday make a mistake. And when that time comes, we will talk about it. How we handle such a thing can make the trust grow even stronger. I'm not kidding myself, I could make a mistake as well. We have decided to just take it one day at a time."

"He must be very much in love if he's willing to wait for you this long. He's grown patient since he's been courting you."

"I must be very much in love to even try it. To answer your very rude, very inappropriate question, the number is seventeen." Ragnar's improving mood now fell again.

"Seventeen?"

"By Viking standards."

"But that's..."

"Half of the men I slept with. I know."

"No wonder you tried to kill yourself. I know women who would've done it after only once."

"Thrice." He glanced up at me curiously. "At the lake would have been my third attempt. I actually died once, for a few moments. I was brought back similarly to how I saved Ubbe's life. My brother caught me while I was still a bit conscious. The other time I tried to hang myself, but my father found me. "

"You never told me this before."

"I didn't trust you. It takes time to build. You letting me run with this plan for Horik made me trust you again, or at least enough to tell you."

"You do realize that to me this is just more proof you're the vessel, right?"

"If I fart three times real fast, does that count as proof as well?"

"Why do you always turn serious things like this into a joke?" Bjorn had asked me the same thing a few days ago.

"To hide the confusion I feel."

"You're starting to doubt the gods?"

"From where I started, it's a lot of progress. But even if I would believe in them, I find it hard to keep to my way of thinking about the world."

"Does everything really need to be clear?"

"That's what Bjorn told me. I might be able to, one day. But it's hard to blend everything together, especially when I notice I'm starting to accept life here a little more each day. Everything's moving, and everything's changing."

"It's good to know I'm not the only one who has trouble like that."

"We joke about Floki being cracked all the time, but at least he's able to show it to the world."

"It's a luxury we can't afford. It comes with the title and those we love. At least you have some time until you bear the responsibility that comes with it."

"Funny you should bring it up. Ubbe asked me the same thing earlier. If we were to be together, it would probably play a huge part."

"Would it be a reason for you to stop?"

"Falling in love with Bjorn is easy. I have to learn to love that part of his life as well. That's the hard part. Playing the game at least lets me take a look for myself if I'd want to do such a thing for the rest of my life."

"What happened to taking it one day at a time?"

"We also have to look to the future. I'm in it for the long haul."

"When we talk like this, you actually make sense. I can see why you'd want to take it slow. Had I known sooner..."

"Then you wouldn't have had to ask. I understand you were only looking out for your son, but it was neither the place nor the time to ask me something like that."

"For what it's worth, it has seemed to make you and Bjorn stronger together."

"It might have worked out well this time, but don't you dare get any funny ideas."

"You'd probably find an army and tear me apart. Though the thought of you as a ruler does sound interesting."

"You mean me as a single ruler? Is that even a thing?"

"It's very uncommon, but if you have an army to back you up... You'd hate it as much as I do. But you'd be great at it."

"As opposed to... others?" Did I just ask Ragnar if he thought his wife was a bad queen?

"You'd be more like Lagertha, I suppose. Although your bleeding heart might get in the way very soon. We're not used to that around here." Being compared to Lagertha was a huge compliment in my book, even though I couldn't really see the resemblance between us.

"Have you ever stopped to think my bleeding heart is what makes others react to me the way they do? Perhaps it's my greatest skill of all."

"Don't get too cocky now, your heart will stop bleeding."

"You'll manage to tear it open again. You've got a great way of getting under people's skin."

"I'll take that as a compliment. By the way, Aslaug wanted me to run something by you. I told her you'd say no, but still, I promised."

"Taking shelter from my wrath already?"

"Tonight, she wants to make a sacrifice in your -"

"No." Ragnar gave his cup a look saying I told you so.

"She was sure you'd want to celebrate."

"I can celebrate without any blood. If she wants to do anything in my name, she could, oh I don't know. Anything, really, as long as no animals are harmed. Or humans. And that includes servants."

"Why is it you don't want to call them what they are?"

"Because everyone in life has the same rights. We all have different lives, skills, and interests, but we all deserve to be treated with common decency. Unless you've proven not to deserve it."

"Is that why you want me to help Torvi?"

"Her child has done nothing to you. And letting her go without any form of help is despicable."

"That child will one day grow to hate me. I can end its life now and save dozens later."

"Or you can show it kindness, keep an eye on it and gain an ally. No one would expect it. That child could be like a secret weapon."

"Which can just as easily be used against me. I agree Torvi is not to blame, but that child..."

"Has done nothing yet. It's barely able to survive outside of its mother's womb. I'll tell you the same thing I told Horik."

"No need, he remembered it very vividly. That man is as close to fear for you as he'll ever admit. His son, though..."

"Cut from a different cloth entirely, isn't he?"

"Another fabric, I'd say."

"He'll play his part. He lied to his father for me."

"He did?"

"I think the boy may surprise you. Keep an eye on him, in any case. Horik thinks I set him straight about not wanting to be his heir."

"That would explain why Horik hasn't brought his other son. Horik must've wanted to talk to you about it, and then found out it had already happened. No wonder he believed you as quick as he did."

"Why wouldn't he want to bring his other son?"

"Because it's easier to cover up an untimely death." I swallowed. Twice. "Make sure your bleeding heart understands the ways of this world. It will do you no good to remain blind to these kinds of things. You won't always have someone warning you of games being played, or people to help you." It was sound advice. So far I'd been relying on Ragnar for information, but if I were to find out about such things by myself...

"You're right. I've come a long way, but I'm not even close to embracing all of it yet." Just how much was still to come... I was loath to find out. At least I would have Bjorn with me for all of it.


	46. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27-03-801

The sun was trying its hardest to pretend spring was here, but there still was a chill in the air. My dress was still a bit damp from the dew that lay on the grass, but I didn't mind. Bjorn was on the grass beside me, even though he would have to leave soon.

"Did I ever tell you about my mother?" Bjorn seemed surprised by my question.

"You mentioned her a few times, but you never told me much about her. I know she ignored the abuse you went through, but other than that..."

"She's been on my mind a lot lately." I plucked out some grass to keep my hands busy.

"What was she like?"

"At first sight, she was everything you'd expect from a mother. She helped me study when I was younger, she made sure I had clothes and food."

"But other than that?"

"She'd hold my father at a distance when he really crossed the line. She was a wall between me and the tempest that was my father. But after he had done his worst, she'd just ignore me. It told me he was in the wrong, but she never asked me how I was doing, or what I thought of what had just happened. I was left to figure that out on my own. She was great at diffusing situations, but other than that... She'd make sure I wasn't hurt any further, but she never healed my wounds. What would you do if Ragnar cut you, Lagertha stopped him from hurting you further, but then left you bleeding?" Comparing emotional scarring to physical wounds was the best way to make Bjorn understand how I felt. Despite his own brief stints with abusive assholes, cuts and bruises were something he could perfectly understand.

"I'd ask myself why she didn't take care of me."

"That's what I'm doing right now. How could a mother not take care of her child? I'd often feel shipwrecked. My mother would still the storm, but then leave me floating somewhere I didn't know. I'd keep floating, but I'd have no idea where to go next. And I'm pretty sure that I would have managed to keep afloat without her interfering. It was just the image of keeping me safe that satisfied her. She never looked at me and saw me for who I was."

"That sounds lonely. To have someone look at you and never really see you."

"That's a good way of putting it. I was lost at sea, and she'd pride herself on making the weather a little bit nicer. That was all the protection she got me. It's like wearing only snowshoes during a winter storm."

"That would make your nipples stand out."

"You're such a guy." I knew he just wanted to take some of the edge off of the seriousness from all of it, which helped me deal with everything better, but right now I just needed to vent. "I can still remember how my twin brother used to hit me when we were little, and she'd just tell him to stop. She never told him why it was a bad thing, or why it made me cry. She never even bothered asking me if I was fine."

"He hit you?"

"To him, it was just a fun game to see me react to it. He used to call me fat as well. There was a time I barely ate anything, to the point I didn't eat enough. I weighed about as much as Ubbe and Hvitserk put together, despite the fact I was fully grown."

"Those boys weigh nothing."

"And still I thought I was fat. Because I couldn't fathom why my brother would say such things to me if they weren't true."

"And you also believed what your father told you."

"No one ever told me they were lying. If Ragnar kept telling you you're descended from Freyr, and not Odin, would you have ever doubted it?"

"I wouldn't. He told me we're descended from Odin, but he never gave me any proof of it."

"So if you were to tell your children it was Freyr instead, and no one ever corrected you, or them..."

"They'd believe it because I'd have told them. That sounds horrible. What else did they tell you?"

"I was fat, useless, stupid..." Bjorn just shook his head.

"You are neither of those things."

"I know that now, but growing up... One of the first things I found out was that I wasn't stupid."

"So that's why you lash out when someone calls you that. I never knew people could be hurt like that. No wonder you're so careful."

"I don't claim that getting beaten isn't bad as well, but what I went through, it's so much harder to prove. There have been so many times I wished my father would just beat me, so I'd have some bruises to show. At least then I'd know it wasn't just me. Others could see the bruises as well, and it would convince me as well that it wasn't just all in my mind."

"I feel really sorry for you hearing about all this. It kind of makes me wonder, do you even have any happy memories of that place?"

"Oh, I do. I had some great friends once upon a time, but somehow, we lost touch. I was really bad at reaching out to others, and I still have problems with it. I used to feel like I was a burden to others because of all the damage that was done to me. I didn't want to bother others with it. But I have some great memories. This one time, I went on a... okay, so imagine a horse that can run at twice the speed for at least ten hours straight. It only needs this weird special fluid to keep going, which you could buy just about anywhere. I took off on those iron horses and drove about two thousand kilometers, that's um... A little over 3000 miles, until I hit this one city. The trip took about three weeks, but it was so amazing. I came across so many tiny villages and met some great people. I went with a friend, and we were partying and dancing all night, some days we were still a bit tipsy when we'd start riding again." It had been a road trip from Amsterdam to Madrid, on a scooter.

"3000 miles in three weeks? That's insane."

"Those horses didn't have to rest at all. We saw so many sights and had so many adventures. My friend tried to do a trick halfway, and her... wheel kind of broke?" How the hell could I explain a flat tire? "She had to get on the back of my horse and drag hers with her. We got pulled over by the um... by some people who were tasked with keeping the road safe, and they didn't understand us for one bit. They tried to make us pay a fine for some crime, but it was complete bullshit. Eventually, we had to go to a building with people from our own country to smooth things over. But even they didn't understand why we'd travel such a distance on the iron horses. It was completely insane and so totally amazing."

"You sound really happy when you talk about it."

"It was great. I feel really bad about losing touch with her. If I miss anything from back home, it's her company. And the music."

"Did you used to dance back there? I've noticed you moving along to the music here, but you never really dance."

"I used to love to dance. But only where no one could see me, or when I was drunk."

"Then who played the music?"

"We had these things that could store music, kind of like how you store ale. But the music would never run out. You could listen to whatever song you wanted, whenever you wanted."

"How can you save music? I imagine it must have been quite a big barrel." I had to laugh at his innocence.

"It only took a really, really tiny amount of space to keep a song. You'd hardly be able to see it."

"Are those the same songs you sometimes sing?"

"I don't sing."

"You do, but you always stop when someone comes near. I heard you one time and waited out of sight just to hear you." I was a bit insulted at that.

"But my voice is awful."

"It was so soft and sweet, it sounded beautiful to me." I put an elbow to his ribs.

"That's bullshit. You only like it because it's new and different." In retaliation, he softly pushed his shoulder into mine.

"If that were true, I'd have tired of you long ago. You were new and different once, but I still like you now that I've gotten to know you. But I'd still like to see you dance, even just once."

"Well, tough luck. I can't dance to this weird music here, it's just so... folky. I need a decent beat."

"Like drums?"

"Yeah, among others. There's so much you haven't even heard or can't even imagine hearing. There's this whole world just waiting to be discovered. It's almost a shame I can't show you."

"But if you could, you would?"

"Definitely. Even if just to see the look on your face. You wouldn't know what hit you."

"What do you mean? Would the music attack me? What? Did I say something?" I tried to catch my breath, but just the image of Bjorn getting hit in the face with a guitar...

"You'd be just as confused as I was when I got here, even more so. Your brain would explode."

"Can that really happen?" He was so sweet and ignorant. I felt my heart melt a bit at his words. Though maybe he just knew how much it made me smile when he feigned ignorance. Either way, I was happy about it.

"Only if you don't kiss me right now." His lips found mine, and soon I forgot why I'd found him so endearing. He was far from an innocent boy, with one hand tangled in my hair and the other at my side. I felt the familiar heat between my legs building up. Still, I held back. As his hand clutched my hair I felt my resolve growing weak. In the heat of passion, I put my teeth on his bottom lip and bit it. Very slowly he pulled his lip back as the barest hint of a moan escaped his mouth.

"You're making it really hard for me to hold back," he whispered

"Right now, I don't want to hold back." Bjorn sat up and pulled me onto his lap.

"I don't believe the gods sent you. It must have been a demon. Why else would you torment me so?" I put my arms around his neck and put my lips next to his ear.

"The gods have nothing to do with this." As his hands traveled across my back, I felt my desire grow larger and larger.

"I don't want you to regret this tomorrow." I knew he was right. I bit my own lip, forcing back the lust that had started creeping through my body. It had been so long since I'd felt this aroused about someone, and it sort of felt right.

"I hate it when you're right." I would have to miss him for quite a while, though, and I wanted to have some fond memories to remember him by.

"I have to get back. Otherwise, I'll miss the tide." We started walking again and made our way back to the village. I could feel myself blushing as I thought back to the kiss, and the feelings he had stirred in me. I smiled a secretive smile, happy the morning had gone so well. Far too soon we reached the dock. Bjorn was a tad late, being one of the last men to arrive. He was met with some cursing and some laughs. Before he got on board, he turned around and kissed me again. He almost bent my back, but I didn't care.

"Think of me when I'm gone," he whispered. I started to blush again, slapping his chest softly.

"Bring me something nice." After a last fierce kiss, he let go of me and got on one of the ships. I moved back from the docks, letting the traditional departing take place. I saw Bjorn was met with a lot of pats on the shoulders, some men even rubbing his head. He just smiled and turned back to see me one last time. The boats took off, hoisting sail. He kept looking at me, smiling all the while, until the ship he was on was out of sight. I had looked back just as long, wanting to remember every single feature of the Viking that had begun stealing my heart. It was only when Aslaug spoke that I looked away.

"You seem to have been growing quite close." I lowered my head a bit, smiling.

"We've been doing really well. I feel like I can really trust him."

"I've never seen people wait this long to actually start seeing each other."

"You know I'm different like that. And Bjorn doesn't mind waiting." Aslaug let out a grunt, only poorly managing to keep it in. "Come on, no brave faces today. Let me take you back inside." She was suffering, had done so ever since her baby was big enough to move around. Aslaug let me guide her inside, walking with a slow deliberate pace. I imagined I'd soon have to take care of all three boys, with both her and Siggy about to give birth.


	47. The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-04-801

Aslaug kept true to her promise and told me more of the gods. She was a different teacher than Floki or Athelstan had been, often questioning my knowledge of what she had just told me. Ubbe had started training with some of the older men, finally getting to swing his axe at things. Hvitserk and Sigurd played with some of the other children, I could hear them running around the village every now and again.

I often thought of Bjorn, wondering if he was still safe. I chided myself over everything I had told him, feeling like I had done everything wrong despite the positive feeling I had when he had left. As Aslaug's belly grew, so did my fear of what would happen when Bjorn came back. What if he had met someone else over there? Or if he had decided to ignore me when he came back? Maybe he would get hurt and die. My mind kept rambling, making me lose focus of what I was doing.

The only thing that truly distracted me was the birth of Siggy's daughter. Dagmar was the most precious little girl I'd ever seen. She slept well, and Siggy was just over the moon. Seeing the two of them warmed my heart and made me forget about all the troubles I had twisting and turning inside of me. Aslaug's pregnancy was a completely different story.

I didn't have any experience helping giving birth to a baby, so Siggy asked me to watch over Dagmar and the boys while she and Helga helped Aslaug. I was just amazed that she was already able to move around and help at all, with the birth being just two weeks ago. I did know a fourth child was not supposed to take longer to give birth to than the third and second combined. As it grew close to the second full day, I wasn't the only one who was growing anxious.

"I fear the worst," Helga said as she took a minute to wind down before catching some sleep. "Something's wrong, and we don't know what."

"Do you think she may die?"

"They both might. Only one of them might. We don't know, and that's what worries me." I put on a plastic smile as Sigurd bounced around on my lap. He was starting to walk around just fine, but he still liked our little game.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Knowing her sons are well taken care of gives her some comfort. But otherwise... We may have to make a choice, if nothing has changed by the time I wake up." A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined what kind of choice that would be.

"Then the child will die." There was no way Aslaug's life was less important than that of a fourth son.

"It is ill luck to speak of that before it's time... But I think you're right."

"What does she want herself?"

"She wants us to save the child. Mothers always do. But we know better." I took in a deep breath, not sure if I agreed on that. Still, in this time and age... Making a choice would be dangerous enough.

With the boys off to bed, I spent some time with Aslaug. She was incredibly tired but couldn't sleep through the pain. Her eyes were puffy, and she looked severely dehydrated, lips chapped and her eyes bloodshot.

"I can't do this anymore," she said as I wiped off her brow with a damp cloth. "Ragnhild, please make sure my sons grow up strong and healthy. Lay off with the stories for a bit, and - Aah!" She nearly crushed my hand as a contraction hit.

"I'll do no such thing, you hear me? You'll be just fine, and you can scold me over everything I've done wrong in my life later. Right now, try and get some rest." Aslaug scowled at me, looking ready to attack me.

"I won't allow you to take such a tone with me, you brat. I am still the earl's wife." Siggy pointed at Aslaug with her eyes when I glanced in her direction, telling me to keep going.

"We're going to give it another try," Siggy said as Aslaug tried to get up.

"You said I could rest." Aslaug looked terrified all of a sudden.

"You still have plenty of energy left for another try." Aslaug grew angry, making me realize what Siggy wanted to achieve. Getting her angry might give her the strength to finally birth the baby.

"I don't give a fuck you're the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok. I'm a free woman, I can do what I want. If I want to make your boys soft and all in touch with their feelings, I will. It's not like you'll be around to stop me if you keep this up." She bared her teeth at me, trying to get Sigurd in her arms.

"Give him to me."

"You can't even give birth to one, how do you expect to take care of them?" I felt all warm feelings and care for her fall away into the background. Siggy arched an eyebrow as she heard the hard words coming out of my mouth. "What's the matter? Lost your tongue? I knew you were a worthless piece of shit. I don't know why I even bothered with you." Aslaug's eyes went wide.

"Ragnhild," Siggy chided softly. Maybe I was pushing this a bit too far. She needed to gain strength, not get lost in despair.

"You want to prove to me you're the earl's wife? Then fucking push." She gritted her teeth, looking ready to jump my throat.

"I'll have your fucking head, for talking to me like that." Her body was already tensing up again, a new contraction on its way.

"You can't even get up right now. How do you think that will work out? I'll be gone before you know it." Her hand started to squish mine.

"That's it, push!"

"I might just take your sons with me," I whispered in her ear, making Aslaug scream out in frustration and despair.

"That's it, almost..." Aslaug screamed her lungs out, sounding hoarse and broken. Her shouts turned to wails as she lay down again.

"Don't you dare take them away from me." She cried, looking up at me in despair. "You're not that cruel." Siggy gave up on the attempt, realizing Aslaug couldn't focus long enough to actually give it a real try.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted you to get angry at me. I'd never come between you and your sons. I'd never hurt you like that." I put Sigurd next to her for a moment, who fussed a little as he tried to get a better look at his mother.

"Mama," he mumbled as he put his hand on her mouth.

"He needs you, Aslaug. They all need you." Siggy looked pained as she covered Aslaug’s legs with a blanket. As I caught her eyes, I knew what she meant to do if the child wasn't here by morning. My mind went racing, trying to remember what little I knew of such things. I fell short.

Life was hard, here. I knew that, and I was starting to accept that. But I couldn't just let this slide. Even in my time, losing a child or having to decide on something like this... It would never get easier, or less gut-wrenching. I left Sigurd with Aslaug for a moment, letting Siggy drag me off to the hall.

"What do you think?" she asked in a hushed tone. I didn't understand.

"Why would you ask me?"

"You saved Ubbe once, you sometimes just know things."

"I'm not a healer, you know that. I only knew what do to with Ubbe because I went through the same thing once. I've never even been pregnant, I don't know anything." Siggy sighed, turning her head as if the answer might hang up in the air somewhere.

"Then I pray the child will be born before morning. She can't hold on much longer."

"What can I do to help?"

"You realize what we might need to do?"

"Helga didn't want to say it outright, but I know what desperation looks like."

"I figured you might, with what you told Aslaug. That was rather crude." I shifted around in my seat a bit.

"Was it really that terrible to say?"

"I would save that for my worst enemy." I bit my lip, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "What made you think of it?"

"It's..." I didn't dare look up at her.

"Something you've been told?"

"My father used to say stuff like that whenever I made a mistake."

"Your father?"

"He'd get mad when I didn't do well enough in my studies, or when I dared go against him. It happened a lot, he'd always think I'd be able to do better somehow. He was never satisfied."

"No wonder you killed him." I didn't remember telling her about that, but it seemed she was the most well-informed woman in the whole of Kattegat. No wonder Ragnar didn't fully trust her. Siggy was a force to be reckoned with.

"One of the highlights of my life..." I looked up with a sigh. "Tell me, will you need my help tomorrow?"

"Do you still know how to take a command from me?"

"I always came to you for things to do, didn't I? I can put my feelings for Aslaug aside for a while if it means saving her life."

"Even if she will resent you for it?"

"It's not my decision to make, and I don't want any part in that. But I will help you save her life if that's what you decide on."

"You're awfully calm about it."

"It's easy talking about things that might not happen. I'll be a wreck tomorrow."

"Then try and get some sleep yourself. I'll stay with her for the night."

"Are you sure? You might have more need of your strength than me."

"I'll be fine. Though it might help if you try and say a little prayer for Aslaug, all the same." I couldn't really see the harm in it this time. Ever since Egersund, I had been only sparingly blessing people and women in particular.

"Just this once," I sighed as I got up. "I'm still certain it was just a coincidence you got pregnant."

"We could use another coincidence right about now." We went back to see how Aslaug was doing. She seemed to be asleep, one hand on Sigurd's foot. I sat down next to her belly and put a hand on it, hoping I wouldn't wake her up.

"It's time for you to evacuate the premises," I told the bump, keeping to Dutch. "One way or another, you will have to leave by tomorrow. So, retract your claws, and do yourself a favor. Get out while you still can." I sighed and sat back a little.

"Why not speak Norse?"

"Some things are easier to express in other languages. The gods will understand what I said."

"If you say so..." I reached out to grab hold of Siggy's hand. "Some things are beyond our control. Whatever will happen tomorrow, we're doing it for the right reasons."

"I hope you're right... I'll spend the night here as well. If you need help, don't hesitate to wake me up. I'm not sure if I can even fall asleep at all."

"Better take Sigurd, then. He doesn't need to wake up when she does." I nodded and got up, taking Sigurd with me. As I looked back a last time, I saw how conflicted Siggy felt.

I wasn't the only one who was worried. As I put Sigurd down, I heard a tiny voice call out to me.

"Ragnhild? How's mother doing?" I sank down next to him, seeing Hvitserk wasn't the only one worried. Ubbe's face looked just as worn down.

"She's holding on. We'll know more tomorrow."

"She's not screaming anymore..."

"That's because she fell asleep. You should try and get some rest as well. I'll stay here for the night, so if you need me -"

"Can I sleep with you?" Hvitserk asked. He was far too young to look so worried and afraid. I took in a deep breath, not seeing how it would even fit in the tiny cot in the corner.

"You know what? How about we sleep in your parent's bed tonight. There's plenty of room there, and it might help us fall asleep. It will be like they are both with us." Hvitserk threw the furs off himself and got up immediately, almost happy with the suggestion.

"Isn't that a little weird?" Ubbe asked.

"Not to me. Where I come from, children sometimes sleep with their parents in their bed, so they feel safe. And I think we can all use a little of that right now." Ubbe debated himself for a bit, then got up as well.

The huge bed was large enough to hold at least four adults, but Hvitserk crawled up to me as close as he could. I threw an arm around him and pulled him close, knowing I could use a little comfort as well. Ubbe kept a little distance, but he did face me when he closed his eyes.

"Can you tell me a story?" Hvitserk asked with big eyes and that annoying little pout he knew I couldn't resist.

"Don't you want to try and sleep a little? We might wake up again soon."

"I'm not sleepy," he said full of confidence. It made me smile a little, and as I glanced over at Ubbe I saw his eyes were a bit open, still.

"Alright, let's see... Let's make it a happy one, yes?"

"You're terrible at happy stories," Ubbe said.

"Well, if I'm so bad at it, why don't you tell us a story?" Hvitserk grinned at the thought of his brother being put on the spot like that.

"I can tell a happy story," he said as he got up a little. "It might even be a new one to you. You barely know of the gods."

"Then I'm all ears, I love new stories." I snuggled in the furs.

"Just - don't interrupt, like you always do with Floki and mother."

"I'll keep my questions until after, but I can promise you there will be many." Ubbe took in a deep breath and started his story.

"Asgard is surrounded by a huge wall, made of the strongest and most heavy rock there is. And it was built by a smith and his horse. He came up to the gods and offered to build it, and all he wanted in return was Freyja's hand in marriage, the sun, and the moon." To me, that sounded like quite a hefty price, but a look from Ubbe made me swallow down the questions I already had. "The gods talked about his offer, and of course Freyja was against the plan. She was furious the others were even considering it, as she was certain the smith was actually a giant. Then Loki suggested to only give the smith one winter to complete the wall, or he wouldn't get paid. And no one but he and his horse could work on it." I scowled, remembering how Loki's presence in a story would mean things would go wrong at one point or another.

"You don't like the story?" Hvitserk asked.

"I've got a good idea of what Loki might try and do," I said, pulling my face straight again.

"As I was saying... Loki convinced the gods to agree to his plan, and they told the smith of their terms. He wasn't dumb, and he accepted on the condition that the gods would agree not to interfere and that he would be safe within Asgard while he worked on the wall. Also, he could use his horse to help him. It was called Unlucky Traveler.

"He went to work, and the wall was being built incredibly quickly. It was ninety-nine feet high, and nine feet thick all around, and the gods were starting to get worried. They didn't want to force Freyja to marry the smith, or lose the sun and the moon. And the most impressive thing of all was how much work the stallion seemed to do. He dragged enormous boulders and stones to the wall, and he barely needed to take a rest. And when there were only three days left to finish the wall, the smith only needed to connect the wall to the gate that was already there." I glanced over at Hvitserk, whose breathing had grown soft. His eyes were closed, he had already fallen asleep. So much for not being tired.

"The gods realized Loki knew the smith would be finished in time and forced him to prevent the wall from being finished. After all, he got them in this mess. He swore an oath to solve it, not wanting to be killed by the gods. He turned into a mare and as the smith and his horse went to the mountains to find more stones, Loki distracted the stallion and had him chase after him all night." Ubbe fell silent for a bit as if waiting for me to react as he'd expected.

"Then what happened?" I asked softly, not wanting to wake up Hvitserk.

"By morning Svadilfari still hadn't returned to the smith, and he knew he would not be able to finish the wall. When he told the gods, they paid him what he deserved."

"And what did they give the smith?"

"Thor crushed his head with Mjöllnir," Ubbe said, eyes wide with delight.

"What? Why would they do that?"

"Because he broke his oath."

"Didn't the gods break their oaths as well?"

"Yeah, but they did it for the right reasons. Had the smith completed the wall, Ragnarök would have happened sooner. You do know what that is, right?"

"I've been told... I guess I just don't understand how the gods could agree to the smith's terms in the first place. If he thought it would be impossible, the smith wouldn't even have agreed to them, especially if he knew he could die if he failed."

"Well, sometimes the gods make mistakes, just like us." Ubbe turned to face the ceiling, clearly not in the mood for more questions about the morality.

"What happened to Loki?" I asked, still curious.

"He came back to Asgard when he had given birth to Sleipnir."

"Really? He gave birth to a horse?"

"Yeah, he's the father of a lot of monsters. Well, and Sleipnir's mother."

"And what kind of monsters would those be?"

"Fenrir, and Jörmungandr, and Hel. Do you really not know that?"

"Aslaug's been sick a lot, so she hasn't been able to tell me all that much yet. I've heard about a lot of the giants that Thor has slain. And I have a lot of questions all the time, so we barely get through a story a day. Now come on, let's get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a hard day for all of us."

"Is mother going to die?" Ubbe asked as he stared at my shoulder.

"What makes you think that?"

"I know how bad it is that the baby isn't here yet." I pulled him close, and he happily snuggled up to me as well.

"Not if I have anything to say about it. Your mother will survive. She's a very strong woman, Ubbe. Men think they have it worse all the time, but this is just as much a battle as going raiding. It's dangerous, but she'll survive. She has to." I heard Aslaug groaning off in the other end of the hall, knowing this would be a long night for her. For all of us.


	48. Boneless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-04-801

"Ragnhild, wake up." I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. Helga was standing next to the bed. Hvitserk and Ubbe were still soundly asleep in my arms.

"Is it time?" I whispered.

"The child is born." Her tone and sad expression told me this wasn't entirely good news. I got up and put the furs back in the hopes the boys would catch a little more rest.

"Helga, what's wrong?"

"You - you should see for yourself." I could already hear the cries of the baby. At least his lungs were working fine.

"You're scaring me." She kept silent as we walked in on Aslaug. She looked even more terrible than before, clutching onto the bundle in her arms for dear life.

"Ragnhild," she sobbed as she saw me coming. "Please, don't let them take him away." Siggy shook her head at me, eyes wide as well. I went to my knees to see her new son and couldn't see anything wrong with him.

"He's beautiful. What's his name?" Siggy cleared her throat and motioned for me to get out, but I refused.

"Don't let them take him,' Aslaug repeated. "Please, you promised to take care of my sons - all of them."

"Why would they take him away?" Aslaug started crying even harder as she removed the blanket covering the boy's legs. I took in a deep, calculated breath. They looked stunted, like they had been broken countless times, and had haphazardly healed as the boy had grown. I didn't need to have a medical degree to realize he would be crippled for the rest of his life.

"We'll take care of him," Siggy said as she stared me down.

"We will. We'll help bathe him, and feed him, and make sure he grows up strong and healthy. What is his name?" I turned to Aslaug, who had started to lean into me as she heard my words.

"I don't know yet."

"It has to be a strong name, he'll need it." Aslaug covered the boy's legs again and smiled through her pain. "What about Vladimir, or Igor?"

"I'll think on it." Siggy stormed out of the room, clearly unhappy with what had happened. "Promise me you'll help take care of him, Ragnhild. Tell him about the flying boats, and naked kings, and love him."

"How could I not love him?" I asked, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

"Aslaug, you really need to rest," Helga said. "You look like you've been through Nilfheim."

"We'll wake you up when he needs you," I promised.

"Don't let him out of your sight," Aslaug said as she handed the boy over to me. "If he's gone when I wake up..."

"I swear it on the gods, and all they hold dear. I will let nothing happen to your son until you wake up." The gods weren't a particularly glowing presence in my life yet, but they were to Aslaug. She let herself lie down and kept her eyes on the boy in my arms until she couldn't keep them open any longer.

The boy kept crying, even as I carried him around and held his head close to my heart. His legs must have been hurting.

"I hope you know what you're doing. He still might die soon," Helga said.

"And if that is what the gods have in store for him, so be it. I won't let anyone put him out in the woods just because his legs look funny." Helga looked like she wanted to tell me it wasn't just that they were looking funny, but a look shot her down. "We should bless him."

"We can't, not yet. We have to wait for nine days, to see if he'll survive."

"I told you, he will make it. If you won't help me, I'll do it myself. This boy is favored by the gods, why else would he make it out right before you were to end his life?" Helga looked down, feeling terrible. I couldn't let off, though. As soon as the boy was blessed, he was considered a living human being.

"I hope you know what you're doing..." I didn't. I honest to the gods had no idea. I just knew I had to keep the boy safe, and this was the only way I knew how to.

"Did he not come out after my blessing?"

"Then I suppose we should bless him with soil and salt," she sighed. "I'll go get some." As she turned around I sat down on a bench, taking the boy in. The white of his eyes seemed to have the barest hint of blue to them. His own eyes were blue as well. I looked up in surprise as Ubbe sat down beside me.

"How's mother doing?" he asked as he leaned over to see his new brother's face.

"She's asleep, she's going to be fine. This is your new brother." Ubbe seemed to look a little disturbed.

"Why is he crying like that?"

"Because he's in pain. His legs are broken." I lifted the blanket for Ubbe to see, and his eyes went wide. "He's still your brother. His life will be hard enough as it is. There's no need for us to make it even harder on him."

"Will he ever walk?"

"I'm not sure, Ubbe. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. But he's alive, as you can hear. That means I will take care of him and protect him. And he will need his brothers." Ubbe looked very troubled and seemed to shy away a bit. It hurt me to see, but I couldn't force him to accept his brother.

"The baby!" Hvitserk shouted as he came running. "He's here!"

"How did you know you'd have another brother?" I asked.

"Mother said so, of course! Can I see?"

"He's a monster." I gasped as I heard the words leave Ubbe's mouth. Again with her prophecies... She'd even predicted that it would be a monster, should he be born, come to think of it. Exactly how Ubbe had called his little brother.

It unnerved me more than a little. Aslaug had known her son would not be born healthy, and still, she had pushed Siggy and Helga to save the boy's life over her own. All it did was make me more certain that I had to protect the boy, whatever I'd have to do.

"Ubbe! He is not a monster, you hear me? Does he look like Fenrir to you or Jörmungandr?"

"He's a cripple, what's the difference?"

"For one, he is human." Hvitserk stared at the bundle in my arm, not knowing who to believe.

"You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly, Ubbe. Just because he may not have a normal life doesn't mean you get to throw him to the wolves." He got up and left. I let him, knowing this would take a while for him to adjust to.

"Why is he mad?" Hvitserk asked as he crawled up the bench next to me.

"Ubbe is just sorry that your brother is in so much pain." Helga had seen Ubbe leave and wore a tired expression as she saw me looking at her intently. She got down on her knees and sprinkled some soil and salt on the boy's head. "In the name of Odin, I bless this boy. May he prevail in battle, and his enemies be strong." Helga was still very much opposed to this, I noticed. I'd have to pull more than my fair share of the weight if I were to help Aslaug through the next few weeks.


	49. Frisia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another POV, from Horik this time.  
> 20-05-801

I couldn't recall the town's name if my life depended on it, but I knew it was the right call to raid it. Now we had at least something to return home with, other than scared women and men to be sold into slavery. Whatever that Vessel had Seen, it was not what she had made it out to be.

Ragnar had believed me without a doubt when I told him of the change in plans, and even now he seemed calm about our meager findings. As I made my way into my tents I saw he was already enjoying himself a horn of ale at my table.

"King Horik. You made it."

"Of course I did. Did you think I'd be killed by some Christians? They were hardly armed." Normally I liked nothing better than to unbelt and relax after a fight, call in a few girls, but with Ragnar here that would have to wait. He was still drenched in blood from the fight himself, but he'd already cleaned his weapons. He hadn't waited for the field to be culled as every other able man would have. He must have thought he was too good to make sure all of our enemies were truly dead.

"The gods can be cruel."

"Not so cruel as to take my life." Or kind, depending on whose side they were on. No doubt Ragnar had a reason for him calm. Ever since the treasure had turned out to be meager, he had relished the complaints of my men. "Why are you here?"

"I figured you would come here after the fight was done. I think it would be a good idea to turn this place into a trading post, maybe even a settlement. The land is much more fertile than our own, and it is well connected to the roads and rivers."

"And how do you suppose we defend it?"

"It already has solid walls, why not fortify those? We can spread word that there's a new settlement here, people will flock here come fall." I took the time to wipe off my face. The cloth came back bloody and filled with dirt.

"That won't be possible. Whoever will be left here will be met with a heavy resistance."

"Why do you say that?"

"Ari's slaughtering the townsfolk as we speak." Ragnar was lost for words. He tried to hide it, but I saw. He hadn't expected me to lash out like this, and that told me it had been a good move.

"I don't see why we would do that." I leaned forward over the table, looking down into his eyes.

"As a tribute to the gods. We have found no real treasure here, not like I was promised. The gods demand a sacrifice."

"So you offer up Christians? They won't even reach Folkfangr." Everyone who died reached Folkfangr, his contact with that priest of his had made him soft.

"Then maybe we can sacrifice that vessel of yours when we get back." He rose to his feet, dropping his horn on my floor. There was nothing left of his calm now.

"I thought you believed in her."

"She tricked me. She told me there were riches here."

"Did she, now?"

"She asked me where the riches in England come from now that their mines have run dry."

"That's not the same!" He raised his voice to the point I felt wary to go against him. All of his played niceties fell away. "She may have hinted at it, but that is what you make of her words! There is a reason for us to be here, otherwise she wouldn't have sent us here!" I wanted to shout back at him, but Asgeir came in, looking panicked.

"My king, Ari has gone." Ragnar sat down again, pretending he hadn't just shouted at me.

"What do you mean, gone?"

"Only his tent remains. His things are gone. One of the men told me he saw the prince leave after you spoke to him, on a packed horse." Had he deserted me? If he had slaughtered all of those townsfolk, I'd had no reason to kill him in the first place.

"What!" Without him dead I couldn't name Erlendur my heir as soon as I came back. "Find him! Send out scouts and bring him back!" Asgeir bowed and left the tent. I threw my horn against a seat, breaking it in two. An ominous sign.

"Why would the boy leave?"

"This is your vessel's doing! He told me she had set him straight, but it was all a lie!"

"Father?" Great. Now Ragnar's son came in as well, as did Floki. "What's going on?"

"It looks like Ari left camp with his things."

"I'll kill her for this! Before I head back to Roskilde I will go to Kattegat and blood-eagle her myself!"

"You will do no such thing." Bjorn had the audacity to come stand so close to me he forced me to look up to look to him.

"I'll not have her disrespect me like this! This whole raid was a mistake, and it's her fault!"

"You touch her, and I'll kill you."

"She's not your woman. You have no say in the matter." Floki pulled on his arm, but he shrugged it off.

"I will marry her one day, and that makes it my business."

"Bjorn." He leered at me as he took a few steps back to stand beside his father. "I'll not allow you to kill her, or harm her in any way. She was sent to us by the gods, and we will keep her safe. Think about your next words carefully." Ragnar looked downright intimidating, as if I'd insulted him greatly. Floki had one hand on Bjorn's shoulder to keep the boy back, but the other fondled his axe. One against three.

"I cannot let this slide. You asked me for a lot when you wanted to keep Borg out of this, don't push your luck." I took a seat and signaled for horns of ale to be brought. Bjorn and Floki sat down as well.

"You meant for your boy to die. I don't see how him running off interferes with your plans. He'll never survive, not after what you did to the townsfolk here." How had Ragnar found out? The plan was only known to me and Asgeir, and he had sworn to me he hadn't been found out when I sent him ahead to talk to the Vessel to see what kind of woman she was. She could have saved his life, had she not put his head full of wool and dreams.

"You used her, to get me to do what you wanted. You meant for us to come here."

"In the first place, I came here to see if we could settle. You took that chance away from me before we could even try it. And as for Ragnhild, she's curious, and I used that against her. If anything, I played on her innocence." Bjorn shot his father a questioning look. He hadn't known, either. "Ragnhild is a strange woman, and I needed to come here to check on some suspicions. My mind has been put at ease, she truly is who she says she is."

"Father?" Ragnar seemed loath to explain, but Bjorn didn't let off. He got the same stubborn look in his face as Ragnar wore not that long ago.

"Athelstan told me she had a better time at understanding English than Norse, and then you tell me she spoke a strange form of Germanic dialect. She said she's not from around here, so I needed to make sure she wasn't from Frisia." I chuckled at his confession.

"You have her take care of your children, you trust her blindly when it comes to deceiving me even without her knowing, but you worry about the tongues she speaks? What about her do you fear?"

"I hold no fear for her, but I am not a fool. She's a strange woman that holds many secrets. And after this, I can say I fully trust her." Bjorn didn't seem as pleased with his answer as me. If there was doubt in him before, Ragnar was only telling me half at best. That woman could be dangerous to him as well, and that was something I could use. For all his talk of how Bjorn would marry the girl, she kept him at a distance. Everyone knew they hadn't gone beyond kissing, after half a year. Both of them would be dead before he even got the change to propose.

"You've shown more than a little interest in her yourself, King Horik." I looked up as Floki spoke up. He wasn't one to go against Ragnar, or me. "Is that not why you sleep with Siggy? To learn of what is going on in Kattegat, and to find our weaknesses?"

"Ragnar is not the only one with questions about that girl." Ragnar put a hand on Bjorn's arm before the boy could lash out. He was turning red in the face. Perhaps if he lashed out at me I could put him to death and Ragnar and I would both be short a son. "What is she to you, anyway?" I kept my eyes locked with Ragnar's.

"She is the one to save us from a terrible fate. She will save all Viking."

"And guide you to rule this new world? How can you be certain she won't cast you aside and claim the honor for herself?" Bjorn was growing more and more restless, causing Ragnar to cast him warning glances.

"I won't let you talk of her like this. She is sent by the gods, that alone is reason enough to trust her."

"And yet you led us into this cesspool of swamps and Christians to figure out if you should trust her. It won't surprise me if she will overthrow you one day, and I will laugh when she does."

"You shut your mouth!" Bjorn's ears were bright red, and his hands low underneath the table, no doubt grasping onto his sword. "Ragnhild is the strongest and kindest woman I know, and she would never try and hurt anyone on purpose! I won't let you talk about her like that!"

"Bjorn!"

"I won't shut up, father. He's talking of killing the woman I love, and I won't stand for it. If you won't defend her honor, I will!" The boy was so predictable. I rose to my feet as he did, and drew my own axe as he drew his sword.

"Careful now, boy. Is she really worth dying for? You haven't even tasted her yet." Floki got to his feet and drew his own axe, and lifted Bjorn's sword with it.

"Empty threats, Bjorn. Don't let him taunt you like this. Come, you've done enough damage. Horik will never lay a hand on her." Bjorn turned his head and left with Floki. I didn't miss his knuckles turning white as he clasped the sword tight. It hadn't gone over as I'd hoped, but it was enough to force Ragnar into submission once again. If just the mention of that girl could elicit such a response, Bjorn might just destroy Ragnar's legacy from the inside out. That girl was as much a weakness as she was a strength.

"Don't look so smug, Horik. I may not show the same spirit as my son, but I assure you, I share his sentiments. What happened to your boy does not reflect on Ragnhild, nor does the success of this raid. It was you who was fooled, and it is you who will bear the mistakes of your decision to go here instead."

"Leave. Now." Ragnar's eyes twinkled as he got up and left me with my thoughts. That man would die for his impudence. I'd get a message out to Borg and make sure Ragnar would never make it on a next raid. I'd have to be careful and play nice for now, but Ragnar would die at my hands.

First I had to placate my men. They would not be content with the bare scraps we had managed to pull from this wretched town, not with Ragnar stoking the fire even higher. It had been my decision, he was right about that. He had played me for a fool. I brooded over my ale as I came up with a plan.

"Asgeir." He'd been gone for long enough.

"My king, we couldn't find him. I can tell the men to look further, but that will be dangerous."

"Leave him. If Ari wants to run away from his birthright, that's on him. I won't spend any resources on dragging him back just to kill him. There's something else I need you to do." He took a deep breath as he realized what that would mean. He wouldn't have to kill my son.

"I heard that boatbuilder talking to Ragnar's boy. They're both intent on holding you accountable for something."

"Which is why I need you to send word to Ribe, and Hedeby. Ragnar means to break his oath to sail west with me and Borg."

"What shall I tell Jorgenson and Kalf?"

"Tell them to expect a visit from me soon, and have them spread the word they will be joining me and Ragnar next year. We'll need all the men we can get our hands on."

"But... It's rumored they'll be going to Paris then."

"Aye. We'll make sure Ragnar will never get there." He and that little plaything of his had cost me my son, and he would pay dearly for that. The gods would make sure of that.


	50. Beyond Surviving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15-06-801

The raid was a long one. Ivar was already two moons old when the bells rang, heralding the return of the men. I was sure that if I went outside to meet them, I'd be a nervous wreck. With the added pressure of having to take care of Ivar, the boys now had to contend with me instead of their mother. I was barely hanging on as it was.

Aslaug went outside to meet them, I stayed behind and tried to keep busy. I had to focus not to drop anything out of my hands. Bjorn and I had only been seriously dating for three moons, and now he'd been gone for three more. Would he even still be interested in me?

Bjorn's voice managed to scare me despite my hoping I would hear it, causing me to drop the mugs in my hands. I turned around, seeing confusion flash over Bjorn's face. He had some peach fuzz on his chin, and dirt on his face.

"Are you not happy to see me?"

"I am. I'm glad to see you, and I'm glad you're safe. It's just... I was worried you might have forgotten about me." He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. His furs smelled like sea and old sweat, barely giving me any comfort.

"Why would you think that? I told you to think of me because I knew I would think of you. And I did. Every day." I cursed my mistrusting nature.

"I'm sorry. I'm not - I was foolish. I still am. It's good to see you again." He kissed me on my forehead, not understanding what was happening inside my head. Neither did I.

"Is everything alright? You look... Tired."

"It's been rough. I'd rather not talk about it right now, if that's okay." He put his hands on my arms and looked down into my eyes. "I'm sorry, you must have thought I'd be more glad to see you." I felt like I couldn't do anything right. First the whole thing with Ivar, Ubbe was still refusing to acknowledge his brother, Sigurd was still mopey over have to share his crib with Ivar, and now the men were home...

"I'm mostly just sad to see you looking so disheveled. Anyway, you told me to bring you something nice, and I did. I hope you like it." He let go of me to bring out his gift. It was a necklace made of silver, with delicate threads winding into each other. It was simple, but I loved it.

"Thank you, Bjorn. I almost forgot, I'd meant it as a joke..." He looked a little uncertain at my words, but I put him at ease with a smile. "I love it, thank you. You remembered what I like." I turned around so he could put it on my neck. His fingers lingered on my skin, awakening an urge to kiss him. His touch made me forget about how tired I was and made me realize how badly I had missed him.

As I turned around Ragnar and Aslaug came in, Ubbe and Hvitserk clamoring for their father's attention. I started feeling awkward, not wanting to kiss Bjorn in front of half his family. I put my hands on his chest and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. I will treasure it always."

"That's all he gets?" Ragnar asked. "He plundered ten houses to find that for you, had to fight off a nasty old goat to get it." My face paled. I had suspected, but knowing the necklace was taken at the cost of human lives made me feel sick.

"Stop teasing them, can't you see they wish to be alone?" I took Aslaug's cue to leave the hall, grabbing Bjorn by the hand.

"They haven't even had sex yet," I heard Ragnar say, and my face turned even redder. I held on to Bjorn's hand until we were inside my house.

"What is going on, Ragnhild? First, you seem unhappy to see me, then you hug me. I give you a gift, and then something Ragnar says makes you sad again. What am I to make of this? You're acting really strange." I sank down on my bed and felt I was close to tears.

"I don't know! I'm scared, and I'm confused, and I feel bad about you having to kill someone to give me this beautiful necklace. I don't get how you could kill someone just to bring me home something you thought I'd like! I thought I was okay with it, but everything is just getting so close now, and I don't know how to feel about it! And you're just so nice and caring, and yet -"

"You think I'm a monster."

"No! I know you're not, but - Aargh!" I threw a pillow through the room and fell down on my bed. Bjorn threw some stuff on the ground, then lay down beside me. "I'm just so tired. I've barely slept, with Ivar crying all the time, and the boys..."

"What's wrong with Ivar?"

"He's crippled. His legs don't work." Bjorn's face fell flat. "Don't give me that look, please... The entire town seems to hate me for supporting Aslaug's decision to keep him, and I honestly can't understand why anyone would think he doesn't deserve to live. None of it makes sense to me."

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want to spend time with me anymore? Because of how I live my life?" I turned to face him, shocked by his question. For a moment, I wanted to say yes, just to get rid of one of the things that were making my life difficult right now. But as his fingers wiped away my tears, I started to doubt myself. He was so gentle with me, no doubt suffering under the cruel jokes of his friends. As much as I had thought myself used to the Viking way of life, I realized there was plenty I did not know of yet.

I sat up, taking one of his hands in mine. I started playing with his arm ring, just to keep my fingers busy.

"Where I come from, people rarely kill others. No matter what or who they believe in, or where they live. Not even in sacrifice, not even animals. Every life is considered sacred, even those of children who are born crippled. I'm not that used to seeing blood, or death. Before I came here, I could have counted the number of weapons I had seen on one hand. And I'm trying, I really am. But every time I get used to one thing, two more things I can't wrap my head around come up. I want to keep spending time with you. I want to keep getting to know you. You've been through so much trouble for me, and I love you for it -" Bjorn moved like lightning. His lips were on mine before I could utter another word. He pinned me down on the bed, moving his body on top of mine. I froze for a second, caught off guard by his actions.

Then reality sunk in. Something like this had happened so many times before. I didn't know how to say what I meant, or I'd say what I thought the other would want to hear. Too often had I regretted just following along. I didn't like how Bjorn had to kill someone to get me this necklace. I was not okay with going along with this. And if I truly was to see this as a second chance of starting my life over, there was only one thing to do. I had to take back control over what would happen to me.

"Stop it, Bjorn."

"You don't mean that," he whispered between kisses. One of his hands moved down to my breasts. "See? Your nipples are getting hard. You like it."

"No, I don't! Get off of me!" Bjorn kept going as tears started to roll down my face again. What could I do to a man so strong? I didn't know how to defend myself.

Memories of similar situations flooded my mind. It would be so much easier to just go along. It'd be over soon. I could just write it off as a bad decision and avoid him afterward. But I didn't want him to touch me. I didn't want him to kiss me like that, not while I felt like I did. I tried to push him off, even though I knew I would never be able to move him.

"Bjorn, please." He finally stopped kissing my skin. My eyes were closed, not wanting to look at him. The tears kept coming, even as he got off me. I cried in earnest now. About what had just happened with Bjorn, about what I had gone through in the past, it all came out.

"Floki was right. You don't make sense." Bjorn slammed the door shut behind him. I curled up into a ball, clutching the wolf skin fur around me. I was still crying when someone came to the door. It must have been hours after Bjorn left.

"Go away!"

"I just want to know if you're okay. Bjorn seemed upset, and now I hear you cry. What happened?" I didn't answer. If I ignored whoever was at the door, they would leave eventually. A hand touched my shoulder, scaring the living daylight out of me. My gasp turned into a weak yelp, my body recoiling from the touch.

"Did he... force himself on you?" The voice belonged to Helga. I opened my eyes, staring at the wall.

"Please... Just go away. I need to be alone right now." After a moment I heard the door closing again. I kept crying, reliving all of my past mistakes, until I fell asleep.


	51. Flushed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-06-801

My eyes felt swollen and sore. The memory of Bjorn lying on top of me came back, but no tears followed. I felt tired to the bone, and I tried to get back to sleep. Instead of finding peace, I found myself thinking of every bad thing that I had ever done in my life. I kept worrying myself until I couldn't take it anymore.

I got out of bed and noticed someone had come back to leave a plate of food. I wasn't hungry though. I felt a bit violated someone had come barging in while I had been so vulnerable. I felt the need to throw it outside, hoping to disparage any other visitors. The thought of having to open my front door was too much, so I just put it out of sight. I only approached the door to put the lock on, knowing it wasn't going to keep out someone who really wanted to enter.

I could really use a drink. And a cigarette, preferably an entire carton. Maybe some coffee, while I was at it. Instead, all I had was my thoughts and barely any water. I wanted to smash things, to let out the anger that had replaced my sadness. I went back to bed, now crawling under the blankets. Not being able to fall asleep, I started thinking. My mind wandered to Bjorn, and how I had fucked up. I thought back to the abuse my father had put me through. Then the abusive relationship I had been in for two years came to mind. I felt so helpless, so useless.

I wanted to scratch away the tattoo on my hip. It was a lie. I hadn't found the protection I needed with that guy, just replaced one controlling asshole with another one. A few tears rolled down my face until the well of tears ran dry again. So much for the second chance at life here. I couldn't expect any of the men to be different from Bjorn. All of them had killed, all of them had raided. I was surrounded by murderers. Even most of the women had probably taken a life at one point or another. And the boys I had come to love would become murderers at some point in the near future.

How could I have fooled myself for so long? I didn't belong here. Floki was right, I made no sense. This entire traveling back in time thing made no sense. I was so dumb to only now realize that I didn't belong here. I tried to gather the courage to get out of bed, so I could get my satchel. There was a solution right at the bottom, to the desperation that clung to me more heavily than the tears I had shed. A way out. All I had to do was get out of bed, walk over there. I could be done in a matter of seconds. Did I dare climb out from the comforting warmth of the covers?

My plans were brutally interrupted when I heard heavy pounding on the door. The hinges rattled under the force. I crawled back under the furs again, making myself as small as possible.

"Ragnhild!" It was Bjorn. I curled up in an even tighter ball, closing my eyes, covering my ears. His voice still reached me. I feared what he could do to me. What if he broke open the door? Horrifying images shot through my head. My body started sobbing again, pressing every tear I had left in my body out.

"Ragnhild! Open the door!" Go away. Stay out. Go away. Stay out. I repeated the words over and over in my head, hoping they would come true. The bonking stopped. Was he gone? I pulled my head from underneath the cover, aching to know. No, he was still there. He was arguing with someone. Helga perhaps? There was one last pound on the door, scaring me back underneath the covers, but then complete silence for a few seconds.

"He's gone. I'll make sure he won't bother you again. Are you okay?" As glad as I was with her words, I remained silent. "I'm worried about you, we all are. I'll come by again in a bit. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?" Why was she being so kind to me? And who else was worrying about me? Why had Bjorn sounded so mad? Was he really so pissed I had rejected him? Well if he was, he could suck a dick. I punched my cushion in an attempt to fluff it up a bit. I crashed down again and sighed. The fluffing hadn't helped one bit. Just another thing I failed at.

I was mad at myself. I was mad at my situation. I was mad at the entire world. Helga came by a few more times, as she had promised. Siggy tried to speak to me as well, but they didn't get anywhere. It was only on the third day of my shutting out the world, when two of the voices I least expected to hear sounded through the door, that I finally relented. Ubbe and Hvitserk had come by.

"Ragnhild? Are you okay?" The lock rattled as they tried to come in.

"We heard something was wrong with you, can't you come and play with us?" I cringed, not wanting to hurt their feelings by not responding. I got out of bed and sat against the door.

"Don't worry boys, I'll be fine. I'm just... sick." I coughed a bit.

"Then don't be sick anymore! Father's bedtime stories are so short, and we like yours better. And we're bored, even Bjorn won't play with us anymore."

"I have to stay in bed for a while, I'm doing my best to get better again."

"You made me better once, so now we'll take care of you!" Ubbe's voice sounded so determined, my heart warmed a little. "Just tell me what to do." I hadn't eaten, and barely drank anything since I had locked myself in, and my body was screaming at me at the thought of sustenance.

"That's so kind of you. Maybe you could get me a bit of food and water?" They were too young to get that themselves. Someone would come with them as soon as they were asked who it was for. I couldn't face Bjorn. "If they're around, I'm sure Helga or Siggy will be glad to help you." Ubbe and Hvitserk told me they'd be right back. I heard them run off together, talking about what food they'd bring me. I banged my head into the door once, cursing myself. At least I had done some damage control, I could handle seeing Helga or Siggy. I took another moment to pull myself together, then got up.

I felt light-headed from the lack of food. If I had to face anyone, I wanted to at least look a bit presentable, but I didn't have any water left to splash my face with. I doubted I had time to put on another dress. I tried to remove some of the creases in my dress with my hands, but it didn't make any difference. I'd worn it ever since Bjorn had come back.

Way too fast the boys were back, eagerly knocking on the door. I unlocked the door and stepped backward, not wanting anyone on the outside to see me. The boys jumped inside and nearly dropped the bread they had brought me in their enthusiasm to hug me. I forced myself to smile, hugging them back. Helga came in after them, making no attempt to touch me.

"I missed you, too." The boys jumped into stories about how stupid everyone was being, and no one seemed to be smiling since I had become sick.

"Come on boys, let Ragnhild eat something. You'll wear her out." We all sat down at the table. I plucked at the bread, barely eating despite my rumbling stomach. Helga offered me a cup of water. There was only the one cup and only one piece of bread. Whoever had decided on that, they weren't going to allow me to keep up my solitude for long. The water felt weird on my cracked lips, tasting strangely sweet. Chewing went slow and deliberate, taking long to swallow down.

"Wow, you really look sick. What happened to your eyes?" Hvitserk asked.

"Do you remember when you had a cold and your nose kept running? I have the same thing, but instead, my eyes have been leaking." Hvitserk seemed placated, but Ubbe was unconvinced.

"That's not being sick, that's crying." Helga shot him a dirty look, and Ubbe sank down again.

"Why don't you let Ragnhild eat? I'm sure she'll be better in no time now that you've taken such good care of her." They wanted to protest but knew better than to defy Helga. I gave them a big hug, promising them not one, but two new stories when I'd be better. They left through the door, leaving me alone with Helga.

"What is going on? First Bjorn storms through town with an anger I have never seen before, then I hear you crying for three days straight. No one knows what's wrong, we're all worried he might have forced himself on you. He denied it when I asked, then came storming here shouting about the lies you had been telling. I was only able to make him leave because Floki came with me. Ragnar was talking about breaking your door down when the boys came asking for food." I just sat there, picking at the bread, drinking tiny sips of water. I let the information sink in.

"I've been thinking of leaving." She waited a moment, hoping I'd say more. When I remained silent, she spoke.

"Ragnar would never allow you to leave like this."

"Ragnar has no say over me."

"You'll have to stay here until this mess is resolved, at least. Besides, the rumors about you have spread. The market has never been this busy. Earls from all over Norway have sent messengers saying they want to meet you. Besides, you're not fit enough to go anywhere." So that's why Ragnar made me a free woman. He thought my loyalties certain, knowing freeing me and spreading the word I was sent by Freyja would bring him opportunities and riches. All the while never planning on me to be free from him. So like my father.

"He still thinks of me as his property. How nice of him then, to make me a free woman. It's good to hear I am worth so much to him." I had clearly underestimated the importance of the politics happening around me. "Did Aslaug set me up with Bjorn as well? To tie my loyalties to Ragnar even further?" No doubt he just wanted his son to breed with me, giving him even more power.

"What are you talking about? We all care about you because you are kind and caring. Ragnar considers you a part of the family, just like Aslaug. Where is all this mistrust coming from?"

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe because I have never been able to trust anyone. Maybe because I've been taught to trust no one since I was born. Maybe because of all the assholes that used and abused me my entire life! Maybe because Bjorn tried to force himself on me! One moment I'm explaining why I need more time so I can start trusting him, then he jumps on me like I was some prey to be hunted down. He might have been the first one to stop when I told him to, but it's not like something similar never happened to me before. I don't even know why I tried to put up a fight. Why would one more matter? Take your pick, Helga! Which of the seventeen stories do you want to hear?" I had wanted to keep going on, but my body didn't have the energy. I bowed down my head, eating another piece of bread. Helga stayed quiet all the while, carrying that pitying look I hated.

"I've been broken so many times, I don't even know who I am anymore. Sometimes I didn't even put up a fight, just wanting it to be over." I took a sip of water, if only to gather my thoughts. "When I came here it felt like I was given a second chance. But I should've known better. If anything, I should thank Bjorn for showing me I can't ever trust a man, not even here. Now I know not to bother at all." I made to get up, but the light-headedness was too severe. I tried to keep myself standing, but all I could manage was shaking all over my body. A blurry version of Helga tried to help me sit down, but all I did was to fall to the floor.


	52. Hiding Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-06-801

I heard voices before I could see again. No doubt I had fainted from the lack of food and water. Three days without had been tough on my body, and whatever energy I had left was spent on turning my anger towards Helga. She hadn't deserved it. She was simply the one there to point it at. I tried opening my eyes, but it took too much energy. I barely managed to catch sight of the ceiling of the great hall through my fluttering lashes when they fell shut again. Were I still in the 21st century I'd be given an IV drip and some food would be pumped into my stomach, or something like that.

Instead, someone attempted to drip some honeyed water into my mouth. Not prepared for something so thick, I coughed it back out, leaving me gasping for breath. The second attempt with just water went a little better. It had been a tiny sip, barely enough to warrant me swallowing it. I sighed in relief, my body rejoicing at the fluid. A few more sips followed, then I was left alone for a few minutes. As my body finally processed the bread and water from earlier, I could focus my hearing again. There were a lot of worried voices whispering.

I groaned at the presence of people, but this was mistaken for a plea for more water. I gulped it down easier this time. Why wouldn't they just let me fade away? Didn't they see the damage I had endured, and that the final piece had been broken? A voice spoke sharply, there was some disturbance in the company. Then it grew quiet again. I opened my eyes, more successful this time.

"It's going to be okay. I'll take care of you." Helga's face wore a sad smile. I just felt embarrassed. I had told Helga so much about me, and the rest would doubtlessly know by now. I would have to face everyone at one point, no doubt having to explain myself. I didn't want to get back up, but I had to eventually. It might as well be now. Slowly I pushed myself up, under heavy protesting of Helga. Sitting up, I saw I was back on the cot I had been sleeping on for a long time. With a shaking hand, I took a cup from Helga, drinking water from it in small sips.

"Do you have some fruit?" I asked her, my voice barely audible. The sugars would help me feel better much quicker than something heavy like bread. She left me alone for a moment, which I used to distance myself from my feelings. I pushed them all away, deep. I heard Helga shouting, and Bjorn shouting back. Of course, he would be here. I didn't care. He could come and see me if he wished to. Helga came back with an apple. I took it from her and ate it in silence. Silence suited me. Silence was good. I ate the apple to the core, then finished it all until only the stem was left. I felt some semblance of strength returning. Helga took the stem from me, and I thanked her.

"Are you... okay? You seem..."

"I feel a bit dirty." She helped me clean myself, rubbing a wet cloth all over my body. She even got me a clean dress, without my asking. I got up and put it on, then went into the hall. Surprised faces turned my way, asking without words how I was doing and what I was doing up. I didn't answer them. I had turned off my emotions because I couldn't handle them, trying to assuage theirs was way beyond my reach. I aimed to walk out the door, but Ragnar moved to guide me towards a seat, so I sat. A plate of food was put before me, so I ate. Some ale was put before me, that I chugged down. I only looked up when my plate was empty. The hall was tense, only disturbed by Ivar crying in the distance.

"What happened?" Ragnar asked.

"You look tired." His face was lined with worry.

"Ragnhild, what happened?"

"Bjorn didn't rape me. He stopped before it came to that. It triggered memories of the times I was raped. I didn't eat and barely drank for three days, so I fainted when Helga came by. I'll be fine. I'm sorry to have caused you to worry. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go home now." Before I could move, Ragnar put his hand on mine. I turned to see his face, wondering if he had something to say.

"I'd prefer it if you'd stay here tonight."

"Okay." I went back to my cot and crawled underneath the blankets. As I lay there, I could hear they were fighting. Siggy thought it best to drag me out and force me to talk, while Helga and Floki thought it best to leave me be for today, at least. Ragnar mused aloud about having Hvitserk and Ubbe cheer me up, but Siggy shot him down. They all fell silent all of a sudden, and shortly after I saw Hvitserk and Ubbe coming in. They had Happy with them, dragging him along by a rope.

"We thought you might need some Happy right now. We're sorry we made you so tired." Happy bleated as he recognized my scent and pulled on the rope trying to get to me. As I smiled, Hvitserk let the rope go, allowing Happy to put his hooves on a shoulder and started eating my hair.

"Thank you. Happy is just what I need." I pushed Happy down to my lap and started petting him. The boys looked a little uncertain of what to do now. "This is not about you two, you know that right?" Hvitserk came to crawl up next to me, while Ubbe was still a bit confused.

"Are you going to be okay now?" Hvitserk asked.

"I'm sure I'll be fine in a bit. Happy helps a lot."

"Then why are you still so sad?" Ubbe came to sit next to me as well, looking down at the goat.

"I'd rather not talk about it. It hurts to even think about it."

"Do you want us to leave?" Hvitserk's eyes shot up to mine as he heard Ubbe's question.

"I'd like to just sit here for a while, you can stay if you want to. I think it's best if I'm not alone right now."

"Then we'll take care of you a little longer," Hvitserk said with a smug expression as he cuddled up to me again. I'd kill for these boys, one day.


	53. Facing Bjorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-06-801

I woke with tears running down my face. No doubt I had been crying and screaming in my sleep. There was still some water in a cup near my bed, which I used to wash up my face. I got up, got dressed, and started busying myself. I was as efficient as ever, no emotions there to cloud my mind. After dumping the rests of the vegetables from last night in the goat pen, I went back inside. No doubt I could scrub the floors or something. I wasn't fazed at all when I saw a familiar Viking sitting at one of the tables, jumping up as he saw me.

"Hello, Bjorn." I forced my feelings further down.

"I heard you were up again. Are you feeling better?" What meaning of the word 'better' would describe how I felt?

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just didn't eat enough for a time there. No worries." My face remained still as stone. Don't worry about me. If you worry about me, it means there's something wrong.

"I wasn't sure if you'd talk to me..."

"Why wouldn't I talk to you?" He seemed embarrassed now. Of course I didn't want to talk to him. I pushed on the feelings again. They needed to stay down.

"Well, because... Because of what happened." A flash of sadness almost made it to the surface.

"Don't worry about it. Everything's fine." It wasn't.

"You're starting to scare me. I thought you'd start yelling or something..." Oh, believe me, I'd like that very much.

"Would you like it better if I didn't talk to you?"

"No! I like talking to you, I just..." Bjorn seemed so confused, I almost felt guilty. Almost the feelings came rushing back. I had to hold on. I was fine, I just needed to act like I was fine, and everything would be fine. And still, I couldn't help but throw out a comment.

"You figure that if I get mad at you I'll calm down afterward and all will be well between us. But now you don't know how to react because you don't know how I'm feeling."

"Err... Yes, I..." My attempts to keep everything down were starting to fail. A sliver of anger rose to the surface.

"All you know is how to fight. With swords, with axes, with words. But I refuse to fight. I refuse to feel."

"What's going on with you? You're acting really weird." I was protecting myself, how was that weird? I didn't know what he wanted, and that made him a threat.

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you." Bullshit.

"What do you want?"

"I want to say I'm sorry!" I didn't have to accept his apology until I was ready to do so.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to act normal again! I want to talk to you and apologize for what I did and spend time with you! I want to get to know you and get to know how to love you!" I blinked. My mind was processing what he had said. My feelings came rushing back. I tried to keep the panic I felt at bay. I heard Floki's distinctive giggle, he'd noticed I had used the tactic he had used on me once.

I had to give up on this charade of pushing my emotions away. They had come back at double force, as they always did. I would crumble down and try to take my life again. I needed help. I needed to talk to someone.

I made my way over to Floki and sat down opposite of him. Bjorn had followed me and sat down next to me. It made me a little anxious, but I had to push through. I shifted around, not knowing what to do with my arms, or my legs, or where to look.

"I feel ashamed," I finally said.

"Because of me?" Bjorn asked. I looked up at him, seeing how insecure he felt.

"No, because of how I reacted."

"You made us all very worried. Are you okay now?" Floki wasn't lying.

"I don't know. I feel like I barely know anything. I just know that I don't want to get hurt again, and how much I'm still hurting because of what happened to me."

"I thought us taking it slow would help with that." Bjorn looked confused, and... Fragile.

"There's more to what happened to me, I think. I didn't even know about it before now. It's... I don't feel like my body is mine."

"That's ridiculous, you're a free woman." I shook my head, he didn't understand.

"Not like that. It's like... I don't own my body. Others have as much right to it as I have. What others want and need from me is more important than what I want and need."

"You mean like it's okay if anyone touches you?"

"Sort of... I know it's not right, but I can't do anything about it. It's what I've been taught all my life. What I want doesn't matter. What I feel or think doesn't matter. And it's not something that can just get better in a day or one good conversation. It - it could take a while." I cast Bjorn a furtive glance, trying to get a read on him. I was half expecting him to get up and leave.

"Do you worry I'll behave the same?" His voice was still soft.

"Yes. I'm always afraid of someone touching me."

"No wonder you freaked out that time Rollo touched you."

"That was just my leg when I started feeling uncomfortable. But it took me a lot of effort to lash out at all."

"Did you ever feel like that with me?" He sounded as if he felt guilty.

"Not until you came back. I'm sorry I acted so weird. I always ramble when I'm nervous, and then I start saying what I think you want to hear." I'd started feeling uncomfortable even before we'd gone to my house.

"I thought you just needed to know I cared for you."

"I did, just not like that. I'm just so tired and confused, ever since Ivar was born..."

"Ubbe told me about it," Floki said, his eyes strangely warm. "From what I gathered, you had to take on half the town."

"Yeah... Vinh still hates me over that whole thing with Ubbe. Turns out she's very convincing to a lot of people." Bjorn lifted his hand up for a split second, as if he'd wanted to hold my hand.

"Then we weren't the only one facing strong opposition. If those people are your ancestors like Horik claimed, I can see where you get your fire." If only Bjorn knew...

"Speaking of that fire, there are plenty of times I can remember you standing up for yourself," Floki mentioned to get the conversation back on track.

"Does it have to do with the things your father and brother told you? Because you know how I feel about that."

"It does, and I know. And still, I'm starting to feel angry. I know in my heart you wouldn't lie about it, but in my head, I know what you're saying can't be true. You confuse the shit out of me. Why would you even want to talk to me after what I did?" Floki giggled, interrupting what was turning into a very intense conversation between me and Bjorn.

"Yes Bjorn, why don't you tell her? You spent three moons telling everyone who didn't want to hear all about it." He got up and started smiling. "You two will be fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a woman waiting for me who will talk my own ears off about such matters. I don't need to hear you stumbling around as well." He left us, very confused, and very insecure. I dared to steal a glance and saw Bjorn's ears were bright red. It only got worse when he caught me looking. In turn, I felt my face flush as well.

"So..." I cleared my throat, not really knowing what would follow next. "You err..." Bjorn fidgeted around, not knowing what to say, either. "What happened in Frisia?" Bjorn let out a relieved sigh and jumped on the chance to talk about something else.

"It was just like you described it would be. I can't believe you've never been there, you knew just what kind of plants and animals there would be. And those houses, on the dirt mounds? How did they ever come up with it?" I had to smile at his enthusiasm, though I wondered why he didn't describe the fighting. He must have wanted to prevent opening up whatever it was we had talked about before things turned sour. His hand kept inching closer to mine, but twice he caught himself and retracted it again.

His exuberance, his body language, all of him told me he wanted to share his joy with me. Bjorn kept on raving about all the black sheep, and the goats, and how I'd love it there. He almost made me believe him.

"And there were these birds, they were huge! Well, not really huge, they were really skinny, but they had these enormous legs, and beaks, and I saw one -" He fell silent as his eyes shifted to the table, where my hand was touching his ever so slightly.

"They're called herons," I said, trying to contain a smile. Bjorn's smile got even wider as he saw me blush a little.

"They're fucking awesome. They can swallow a fish whole, and not just these tiny ones. Like, huge fish. I don't know where they keep it all, did I mention how skinny they are?"

"You did." Bjorn fell silent again, softly brushing past one of my fingers with his. It was such a small, yet intimate gesture. And he still smiled as he did. Just this tiny form of contact was enough for him. For just a second, I was convinced he was serious about still wanting to be with me, and getting to know me, to help me past whatever it was that was keeping me from letting him in.

"Ragnhild!" I jumped at the sudden noise. Aslaug was standing on the other side of the hall. "Could you be a dear and take Ivar for a bit? I want to take a bath." I bit my lip, then groaned a little.

"You could say no. You've been taking care of him nonstop for two moons. You deserve a day off."

"I kind of took three already." But he had a fair point. "I'm actually in the middle of something," I called back. "Can't someone else watch him for a bit? He's quiet, anyway."

"But I don't trust anyone else with him."

"No one is going to hurt him, Aslaug. Not while you take a bath. If he starts fussing I'll go have a look." She huffed a bit, but let it slide. I felt exhilarated. I thought she might have started shouting at me or call me ungrateful.

"I heard you had no problem standing up for Ivar when he was just born," Bjorn said. "You went against Siggy and Helga?" I blushed even harder as I thought back to it.

"Oh, don't remind me... I can stand up for others just fine, a little too well perhaps."

"I think it's amazing you did. I... Might not agree with it, but I like hearing about how you manage to surprise us every time you fart."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Is it working?" I failed to try and contain a smile. I felt like a love-sick puppy. Somehow, what I'd told him a few minutes ago was enough for him to put his mind at ease. It felt nice not having to talk about it, and to realize he still wanted to be around me. He didn't mind having to wait, at all.

"Yes." I kept my eyes on our hands. They were slowly inching closer again, and almost touched.

"I spent a lot of time there talking about you and thinking about you. Ever since I saw you yelling at everyone around you to get some goddamn charcoal I knew I wanted to get to know you." I felt myself starting to feel giddy, wanting to hear him say more, and wanting to stop feeling embarrassed at the same time. "Ragnhild, I still feel that way. If you'd let me, I would -" He stopped mid-sentence as my eyes shot up, all embarrassment left behind.

"Don't make any promises you can't keep in the end," I whispered as I withdrew my hand, just a little. Bjorn sat up a little and put his hand on mine, full of confidence. I stiffened as he did.

"I want to spend time with you. You won't get me to back off that easy. Please, just give me another chance." I took in a deep breath, then let out the tension that had been building up inside of me.

"I feel like you should be the one to give me another chance."

"You don't need it, but if you want, you can have one." I thought it strange to have such a young man take such a profound interest in me, figuring he might want to chase after some women before he decided to settle down with a pretty little thing. But instead, he might just be young enough to feel confident he could take the time to get to know me, all of me.

"Then I'll take it. I really feel awful, I didn't mean for you to get in trouble."

"It wasn't fun to have everyone stare at me the way they did... But I should've known better. I know what you've been through, and you were trying so hard to move past it. You told me so much about it and what it did to you, I almost feel guilty for not having as much to share as you have."

"I'm glad you don't. You know what it's like to be raised in a... An at least somewhat abnormal family." Bjorn chuckled softly.

"Compared to you I was pretty lucky, yeah... But it's starting to become your family as well. And who knows, you might grow to like it."

"I'm very much starting to like it already... It's just... Weird. I'm not used to having a family like this."

"Well, if you ever think we're doing something stupid, let me know. I want you to tell me when you feel uncomfortable, or don't understand something, okay? And let me know when you're confused about things. Otherwise, I..."

"We might make the same mistakes again. And I - I want you to feel comfortable as well. To talk about what you've done. You don't have to protect me by telling me all about the birds and sheep you saw. I'm curious what happened there with Horik, as well." Bjorn wriggled a little in his seat, keeping his eyes on our hands as he drew them to his lap. He let his fingers slide over my palm.

"We didn't find a lot of riches, so Horik was adamant about pushing further inland. We hit this town, right next to the Rhine, and it was only recently taken over by Christians. Father wanted to see if we could set up a trade agreement, or even a settlement, but Horik took over and attacked the city. It was a massacre." He cast a furtive glance at me, but my eyes had glazed over a bit.

"Where - how far was this city from the sea?

"Err... About a day's march? We sailed to the most southern point of the sea - it was more of a huge lake if you ask me..." They'd hit Utrecht. I sucked my teeth as I caught Bjorn looking.

"I know of that city. Was there a huge church in the middle?"

"No, it was just a little one made from wood." I suddenly realized they weren't able to build a huge stone tower yet.

"What happened after that?"

"Horik was incredibly mad at you. He told us you promised him riches, and all he found was Christians and a few trinkets. It only got worse when Ari left after the slaughter. He -"

"He left?" I froze as I realized what he must have been thinking. "Ari ran off?"

"Yeah... Horik was beside himself and started to demand your life when we'd return. Somehow he blamed you for what happened. I don't know how he thought you had anything to do with it."

"Well, I did sort of encourage him to follow his dreams... I told him he could if he'd be willing to sacrifice enough for it. I only meant to say that he should wait until he became king, and then he could do whatever he wanted..." Bjorn snorted, then chuckled, then was lost for words.

"You told him what?"

"I didn't tell him to run off."

"I think we may have different ideas of what a sacrifice is." I took a deep breath, then wanted to bury my face in my hands. Bjorn didn't let go of the one in his lap, however.

"So now Horik wants me dead?"

"Ragnar talked him down. I... I might have given him a piece of my mind, as well."

"You defended me?" Bjorn's ears got red again as he stumbled to find some words.

"I err... He - There was this..." he let out his breath and tried again. "I told him he would have to kill me, too." I let out a nervous chuckle as I was left speechless. "And I meant it. I still do. I won't let anything happen to you, Ragnhild. I..." I threw my arms around him and held him close. My eyes were starting to sting with the familiar feel of tears trying to fight their way to the surface. Bjorn's hand carefully found their way to my back. I knew he wouldn't just say that, not against someone like Horik. In my mind, I saw how he would have stood against Horik, axe in hand as he looked down at him menacingly.

"Thank you," I whispered. He rested his head on mine, making me feel even more protected. Bjorn's body felt like a warm blanket of safety.

"I'll never let anything happen to you. You've been hurt enough." He just kept on saying things that brought me to tears.

"Now I feel even worse about how I acted."

"Don't. I should've known better." I let go of him but didn't dare open my eyes just yet. The tears were still pushing to get out. His hands found my face, and I felt him pull a strand of hair back behind my ear.

"You... I just can't believe you'd do that for me. Anyone, for that matter."

"I wasn't the only one who went against Horik." I forgot about my tears for a second and looked up at him. His face was so close to mine... He wiped the tears that rolled down away with his thumb. "Ragnar wouldn't hear of it either, and you should've heard Floki go off on him afterward... He knows he'd be a fool to even try it."

"But still... Ragnar told me he might mean for Ari to get hurt. Like... Really badly hurt."

"I know. He's got another son just a little younger, who is far more suited for the throne, or so I heard. Horik will be fine. You don't need to feel guilty for what happened. You didn't control what Ari did, and everyone knows it. Horik just needs to accept that." His fingers slid down to my neck, lingering a bit.

"I'm a little scared now, what he'll do when we see each other again."

"You shouldn't be." He played around a bit with the necklace I still wore, the one he'd given me. I hadn't even realized I was still wearing it when I woke up this morning. "He should be worried about what we'll do when he tries to lay a finger on you. And at least something good came from it. Horik agreed to let Borg rot in his cell for the time being. Ragnar wouldn't allow him to be set free, at any rate. So you'll have Torvi around for a little longer, I know how much she means to you."

"When you talk like this, I get the feeling you know me better than I know myself."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No." I reached up to put my hand on his, feeling the warmth of his palm against the nape of my neck. "I think it's one of the best things that could happen to me."

"Bjorn." We both looked up to see Ragnar standing next to the table. He signaled for me to leave, and I immediately got up. "I need to talk to you," Ragnar said as he saw Bjorn's confused look.

"I'll see you later," I said with a smile. I had imposed on Ragnar more than enough the past few days, and I felt like all the important things had been said. Ragnar had chosen a good moment to interrupt, and as I saw him taking me in I realized that hadn't been a coincidence. I needed some time to think everything over anyway, so I made my way over to Ivar to check if he was up.


	54. The Viking in Northumbria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-06-801

Ivar was having one of his better days, and hardly fussed when I picked him up to change his swaddling. His eyes were barely blue today, as was the case on the days he felt good.

"You still owe us two stories," Hvitserk said as he came to watch what I was doing. "Ew, that stinks."

"Your poop doesn't smell any better. Would you hand me a - thank you." Hvitserk knew how this went and already had a fresh swaddle in his hands.

"Ubbe told me Ivar might leave soon. Is he going on a trip?" I took in a deep breath as a chill ran down my spine.

"I don't know, I didn't hear of it before. Who told Ubbe?"

"Father." I had to try my best not to get angry in front of Hvitserk. "You don't like it?"

"I'm just a little worried. Ivar is still so young, I don't think him going away would be a good thing." I put the blanket back around Ivar's legs, careful not to pull it too tight.

"He does look tiny... So, will you tell us a story now?"

"Don't we need Ubbe for that, as well?"

"He said he'd be right here. You can start without him. He told me so." I chuckled at his attempt to get his way. As I looked down I saw he instantly started pouting a little, widening his eyes as he did.

"Well, I still need to see if Sigurd needs a bath, so there's a little time for Ubbe to catch up. But if he told you so... I know he wouldn't lie to anyone about that. You know I don't like it when the two of you aren't honest." I raised an eyebrow at Hvitserk before I made my way over to Sigurd. As I picked up his other brother, Hvitserk ran off. I shook my head, wondering where he got the nerve to try and lie to me. At least he wasn't trying to convince me even further.

"Mama," Sigurd said as I held him in my arms. He touched my face a bit, squirming to get even closer.

"Mama is taking a bath right now, she'll be back in a minute."

"Mama," he insisted, scratching at my skin. I'd need to trim his nails, they were getting sharp. Aslaug did that herself before, or she would ask Siggy to take care of it. I might as well take care of it right now, with the boys still running about.

I put Sigurd down for a bit while I went to find the scissors Aslaug used. As I rummaged around the shelves, I felt something tugging at my skirts.

"Mama," Sigurd said as he looked up at me. He fell down on his butt, still clinging to my skirts as he kept looking up. I looked down at him, not knowing what to do. "Mama." He was trying to get to his feet again. I swooped down to pick him up.

"Sigurd..." I had noticed how he seemed to prefer to be picked up by me, but this... He was starting to see me as his mother, as Aslaug spent most all of her time with Ivar. He was still too young to understand what was going on around him.

"Come on, let's take care of those claws of yours," I sighed as I sat down and put him on my lap.

"Cwaw," Sigurd said. It made me smile, I loved how he started to get a grasp of the language.

"Rawr," I said, putting my own hand in a claw as I did. "Like a wolf." With the boy distracted a little I took of the long white edges off his nails.

"Wowf cwaw."

"Yes, wolves have very large claws. Just like you, little munchkin."

"Rah!" He giggled. "Rah!" I giggled as he kept on babbling, trying to keep him from swinging his hands around as he did.

"Oh, you'd be a very good wolf. You'd be the king of the forest."

"Papa." I looked up, seeing Ragnar leaning against a shelf as he looked at us. He came up as he realized he was caught and sat down next to me as I took off Sigurd's claws. When I was done Ragnar took Sigurd in his arms and goofed around with him. Sigurd cooed as he was raised in the air, not afraid of anything. I envied the boy. Remembering myself I got up and cleaned up after myself.

"Mama." I bit my lip as I turned around, seeing Sigurd hold out his arms to me. Ragnar didn't even seem surprised. I sat back down again, taking hold of Sigurd's hand. With both me and Ragnar in his field of vision, Sigurd was happy again.

"It seems I just keep on causing trouble," I said as I realized Ragnar was waiting for me to start talking. "Bjorn told me what happened with Ari."

"That was trouble I was prepared for. It's part of being an earl." The other things, though... Those were me keeping to my otherworldly morals and problems. Sigurd climbed to his feet again, showing his claws to his father.

"I'm still broken. I try to get better every day, but..."

"But you can't help yourself. Honestly, vowing to the gods you would protect the boy? Do you have any idea what that means?" I blinked a few times, trying to remember.

"I promised Aslaug I would make sure nothing happened as long as she rested after the birth..." Ragnar narrowed his eyes as he swatted away Sigurd's digits. He'd tried to push them inside his nose.

"That's not what Aslaug told me."

"Ubbe told me a story the night before, which made me a little wary of oaths and promises. I might not understand the gravity of what you seem to see behind them, but I'm not fond of breaking them all the same. And promises need to be understood by both sides."

"Then you didn't promise to keep Ivar safe at the cost of your own life?" I started feeling very uncomfortable.

"Is that why she trusts me with Ivar so much?"

"Yes. She thinks you'll take your own life if anything happens to him. You did swear on the gods and all they hold dear."

"I may have felt a little dramatic after I saw Siggy and Helga try to take him from Aslaug's arms, but it was just until she'd wake up again. Maybe until you returned, but definitely not meant as a lifetime promise. I just wanted to keep him safe until everyone had a chance to calm down a little. Though I still don't see why you'd want to leave him to the wolves." My voice was starting to sound firmer, and my fear was starting to dissipate. "Just because his legs don't work doesn't mean he can't live. You all place so much value on what a man can do with his body, but you fail to see what his mind is capable of. He could do so much, and you're willing to throw him out like garbage before he can even prove you wrong." In response, Ragnar held out Sigurd to me, his face glowing as he kept calling me mama. I took the boy in my arms and let him play with my necklace.

"That is why. The boy is a drain on all of us. This is not just about his right to live, this is about all of us. You couldn't handle having to take care of him along with my other sons. The healthy ones, which I know will be amazing. The ones that need you just as much, if not more with their mother clinging to that boneless boy all day and night."

"You mean to leave him in the forest," I said, mushing up Sigurd's hair as he giggled. "You told Ubbe, and he told Hvitserk."

"Your world must be wonderful, if you had the means to take care of every child that lived. Here we don't. I can't afford to have my wife at war with me, and my sons left to fend for themselves because of it."

"Your boys have me."

"Until you get a child of your own. Or are you offering to wait until they are all grown? How old will you be then? Do you think Bjorn is that patient? He's already willing to do more for you than anyone else I know."

"That sounds very much like a threat, Ragnar." He wanted to protest, but I wouldn't let him interrupt. "Don't play on my feelings to try and get me to approve of you killing your son. I know you well enough to realize this is about more than just Ivar, so let me enlighten you. I care about all of your sons. I care about every living thing. I wish someone would have loved me as much growing up, as your wife loves Ivar. And even though I can't imagine why Bjorn would still want to wait around for me, I am more than happy he does. I won't let you push me into a corner and manipulate me into doing what you want." Ragnar let out a rumbling sound, processing what I'd said.

"Just three days ago you were broken. And now you spit fire like never before. You're infuriating."

"Like I said, I'm broken. Even more so than Ivar." I got up, Sigurd still in my arms. I had no desire to be where Ragnar was.

As I made my way through the hall I saw Bjorn was waiting for me. He must have known Ragnar wanted to talk to me. I felt the urge to get as far away from Ragnar as I could, but I let Bjorn's smile lure me in. I sat down next to him, holding Sigurd in the middle.

"Wowf cwaws!" Sigurd said with a big stupid grin on his face as he pawed at Bjorn.

"Wow, those look impressive!" Bjorn messed around with him for a bit, while I took a few steadying breaths. By the time I felt calm again, Hvitserk and Ubbe came in, heading directly for us.

"Storytime!" Hvitserk started yammering as he pulled on my arm. "You promised, right? Right? And now Ubbe's here, too!"

"Well, I'd better keep my promises, then. What do you want to hear about first?" I smiled apologetically to Bjorn, but he was just glad to see me smiling. He must have known what Ragnar would be asking about. "What, the flying boats again? But I must have told you a thousand times! How about a flying house, instead? Or a boat that can sink to the bottom of the ocean and come back up again, with everyone on it still alive and well?"

"I'd like to know if you know any Viking stories," Bjorn said as we all moved to sit by the fire.

"I know of only one, but it's really short. It's more of a joke, actually. But I never told it before, so you might not like it. Are you sure?" Happy to go along with their big brother, Ubbe and Hvitserk led me to the fire and dragged me down on one of the seats. They sat on the ground, as we usually sat. Bjorn joined his brothers, pulling them both close as he held Sigurd in his lap. Seeing all four of them together like this, I felt lucky to have them all care about me the way they did, each in their own way.

"So, no doubt you have heard about how your father went to England. They all fear the Viking now, and this is the story of how that came to be. The king of North Umbria, err... what was his name again?"

"King Aelle," the boys said, giggling with anticipation. Even Ubbe seemed to have left his desire to grow up way too fast behind for the moment and was happy to be able to be a kid for a while.

"Right! How could I forget, King Aelle. Well, one day not that long ago he was riding across his land, with his army following him. They rode past a hill, and on that hill, there was a man standing. The man was big as a giant to those tiny men, an axe in one hand and a round shield in the other. King Aelle saw him standing and knew he was an enemy. He shouted at the man to leave, lest he sent his soldiers to kill him. But what does a Viking do when they are told to go away, by such a small man?"

"He stays!"

"And he fights!" Bjorn rubbed their heads in approval.

"Yes! He shouted back at the king to send out his best men and give it a try. Feeling confident, King Aelle only sent out one man, a handsome lord who had fought in many battles. He wore thick armor and carried a great longsword he could only wield with two hands. The man went uphill to fight the Viking, who disappeared behind the edge of the hill. The king could hear the fight, but not see it. It only took a few seconds, then the Viking climbed back on the hill, with the head of the soldier in his hand. He threw it back to the king, and it rolled all the way down in front of the king's horse. Then the Viking shouted: 'Is that all you got? Is this supposed to be a joke? Was he your best man? Don't make me laugh!'

"The king was furious! He spat as he gave orders, shouting at ten men to climb the hill, and kill the Viking. But the Viking disappeared out of sight as the men had almost reached him, and again they could only hear the fighting, and not see it. Who do you think climbed back on that hill again?"

"The Viking!" The boys shouted with glee. They seemed to like this story more than I thought, hanging on every word I said with eyes full of anticipation. Even Bjorn enjoyed it.

"The Viking! He climbed back on the hill with not a scratch on him, after only a minute. His axe was bloody, and one by one he threw ten heads back towards the king. The king was now red in the face, not believing what his eyes were seeing. He had never been so mad in his life! He sent out a hundred men on to the hill, sure that one Viking was not able to survive. As the men approached, the Viking went out of sight again, and a mighty fight could be heard. The king seemed so sure of his victory, but as the fighting took longer he grew restless. But his face lit up as one of his soldiers came back to the top of the hill. He was heavily wounded, but he didn't have the head of the Viking in his hands. The king could hear the soldier shouting... King Aelle, king Aelle! It's a trap! There's two of them!" The hall rang with laughter. Even Bjorn laughed out loud. Seeing him so happy made my heart sing. I'd never dared tell a story about Viking, mostly just sticking to what I remembered from back home.

"This really happened?" Hvitserk asked, his eyes wide with delight.

"What do you think?" I gave him a knowing look. The boys giggled in delight.

Aslaug hastily ran by, Ivar clutched in her arms. She shot me a dirty look as she made off. Bjorn wanted to know what it was all about, but I just took in a deep breath.

"Come on, time for breakfast," Ragnar called out. Ubbe and Hvitserk groaned but got up anyway. Bjorn pulled me along, wanting me to join them. I didn't have any food at home, and I was still a bit famished. Ubbe and Hvitserk claimed the seats next to their father, eager to tell the story they had just heard. Ubbe tried to follow the lines of the build-up, but Hvitserk kept spoiling the joke at the end. At the least, it left me a little room to hold some distance between me and Ragnar.

With Sigurd on my lap, I sat down next to Bjorn, who seemed happy to have me close by. As the servants filled up our plates I put some small pieces of bread and fruit in front of Sigurd for him to eat.

"Since when does he like fruit?" Ragnar asked, watching Sigurd stuff his mouth with berries.

"About a moon ago, he likes the sweet ones. I think he was just a little picky with the sour ones before."

"Where did mother go?" Ubbe asked, his eyes traveling across the table to see who would give off a sign he could read. I took the opportunity to eat some bread myself.

"She's a little upset with Ragnhild," Ragnar said between bites. He'd told her of my confession to him, no doubt.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Bjorn said as he saw the boys looking at me. "You know how Ivar's taking a toll on her."

"I hardly got any sleep last night," Hvitserk said. Ragnar looked at me intensely, as if to press the point he'd made earlier. It wasn't just Ivar who suffered.

"Yeah, Ragnhild kept shouting," Ubbe said. I didn't know if I should feel embarrassed, or triumphant. "I couldn't even understand it."

"I'm sorry about that, I'll be sleeping at home tonight."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Hvitserk eyes looked up at me with perfect sincerity.

"I did, several actually. It's why I have been feeling so sick the past few days."

"I've never heard someone shout out that loud in their sleep," Ubbe said. He seemed like he wanted to ask me more about it, but wasn't sure if I'd want to talk about it. Bjorn reached out his hand to mine, trying to get a read on me, as well.

"I err... I dreamed that my father wanted to kill me. And then my brother saved my life."

"I didn't even know you had a father," Hvitserk said.

"He was very bad at being a father. He didn't know how to love anyone. He used to hurt me a lot, so I don't like talking about him."

"Where is he now?" Ubbe asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen or spoken to him in over seven years. You should be very glad to have a father who loves you so much." Only now I dared glance at Ragnar, who took a deep breath.

"Hvitserk, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he said to change the subject. Bjorn squeezed my hand a bit, knowing how difficult it must have been for me to say something like that out loud. "I think it's time you learn how to work a shield." I saw how much this meant to the boy, but he was still so young...


	55. Know Thyself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 24-08-801

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit nervous about the upcoming smut, let me know if it's up to par to the rest or whatever else you feel like sharing about it.

When I woke up, I realized I wasn't alone. I gasped as I sat up, my heart pounding as I felt body heat that wasn't mine, and a large shape that made the furs rise next to me.

It was Bjorn. I sighed in relief, taking in his form. He snored a little, blissfully unaware of how he had scared me. I slowly remembered how I'd asked him to spend the night, hoping to get used to his presence. As I lay down again I realized it was already getting light outside. I'd managed to sleep through most of the night.

Things had been going well between us the past two moons. He'd been off to the east with Ragnar again for a bit, but despite him being gone for two weeks, we were closer than ever.

He turned around in his sleep and almost hit me in the chest with an elbow as he did. His eyes shot open as he did.

"Oh, shit. Did I hurt you?" He sat up, worry lining his face.

"No, you just missed. I'm fine. I just woke up myself." He relaxed as he saw I wasn't faking it but kept his distance.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, surprisingly well actually. I had a bit of a fright when I woke up, but then I realized it was you next to me."

"So it worked?"

"It did," I said with a smile. "Thanks for doing this."

"Are you kidding? I got to spend the night next to a beautiful woman. You won't hear me complaining." I nudged against his shoulder a little, smiling as I knew he meant it. "I don't get how this is supposed to help you, but I'm glad you asked me to."

"It's just a small step, but I'm getting there. Do you..." I took a deep breath. "I'd like it if you could stay in bed with me for a bit."

"I promised Ubbe I'd train with him, but I've got some time." I turned to face him, and he turned on his side as well.

"I heard a rumor last night that Floki can have the boats ready before spring. Does that mean you'll go to Paris next year?"

"It might... I'm sure the rumor spread across the market. Father's hoping to gather allies to take on the city. It's apparently quite the city to take."

"How long would you be away?"

"I'm not sure. It depends on how long it takes to get there, and how long it takes to get what we want."

"It's about thrice the distance to England from here, I think."

"You know how to get there?"

"Only by land... Sort of. I've got a terrible sense of direction. We used to have all kinds of tools to help us navigate."

"Shame. If you'd know how to get there, I wouldn't have to miss you all summer."

"You could just stay here with me." I knew Bjorn would never stay behind without good reason.

"Don't tempt me... By then I hope to at least have seen you in your undergarments again."

"Maybe I'll show you if you stay." He gently stroked my face, careful not to push beyond what I was comfortable with.

"I also heard a rumor... Horik wants to drop by to discuss going to Paris." I froze at the mention of the name.

"I might just spend some time away right around then."

"You'll have to face him again eventually."

"In fifty years is soon enough."

"I just wanted you to know. I'd hate to have you caught off guard." I leaned in to kiss his cheek, making him smile. He immediately returned one, making me giggle as his peach fuzz stubble tickled my skin. This whole thing with me setting the pace and him doing whatever I did was doing wonders for how confident and safe I felt around him.

"You know, if I am to die soon at his hands, or risk losing you while you defend my honor, there's something I want to talk about." Bjorn didn't like where this was going, but he saw I wasn't serious about either of us dying soon.

"And what would that be?"

"Well, you know talking about things helps me deal with stuff, right?" He agreed with a hum. "Have you ever had sex?" His mouth fell open a bit, then his ears turned bright red.

"Err, no... I got pretty close once back in Ribe, but... No, not yet. Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know what you think it is. Like, what does it mean to you?"

"It's... How you get with child. And it's something you do with someone you care about a lot." I could see him racking his brain for a better answer. He hadn't expected me to talk about this, at all.

"Well, to me it's about safety and trust. It's a really magical thing, if you do it right." I took his hand in mine, playing a bit with his arm ring. "And the more you feel safe and trust each other, the better it gets."

"How do you get to that point?"

"You get to know each other. You find out what you both like and explore each other's body. You talk about it, and you're honest about what you like and what you don't like. And you respect each other's boundaries."

"Do you trust me like that?"

"I trust you enough to have this talk. Unless you don't want to, I don't want to push." His eyes told me he thought I was insane for just contemplating pushing his boundaries on this.

"I'm just a little surprised you're bringing it up. I figured you'd need more time."

"There's no harm in talking about it. I'm feeling a little anxious, but it's the good kind." Bjorn was still a little unsure, so I let him get used to the idea for a bit.

"So, this exploring bit... When can we start?" I chuckled at his enthusiasm.

"Well, you do have to get to training in a bit..." He scowled at me, scrunching up his nose a bit as he did. "I'm just kidding. We'll take all the time we need. It doesn't have to happen in a day or take a year. We'll just see how it goes. One day at a time, like we said."

"Okay, I'll start. I really like it when you put your hand on my chest, like this." He moved my hand to his chest, right above his heart.

"What do you like about it?" I softly let my fingertips move around on his skin.

"That, mostly. It makes me feel like I can protect you. It makes me feel strong." His eyes took me in, and I could feel down to my toes he meant it.

"I like it when you let your fingers slide over my collarbone." I guided his fingers to the place I meant, feeling warm and safe when he touched my neck. "It feels like you're reminding me of my femininity."

"I don't see how you'd need a reminder for that."

"You make me feel like more than what I feel like I am. It's... like you see this part of me I sometimes forget about."

"You always relax when I touch you there. I feel like I can touch your trust in me. Especially when I start over here..." His fingers moved to just behind my ear, making my body relax. With a slight curve, he moved down to my collarbone. I hadn't even realized I had closed my eyes until I opened them again. "Like that. You always relax and have this soft smile that tells me everything will be okay."

"I'm starting to think you know my body very well, already."

"You know mine pretty well, too." He pulled back his hand, letting me see for myself. I gently touched his lips.

"You get aroused when I bite it when we kiss..." I moved my hand to his cheek. "And there's a faint scar here, barely noticeable... You don't like it when I touch it too long."

"I got it when we were attacked at the farm, before father became the earl." I shied away from the mark, then focused on his eyes.

"I think your eyes are beautiful. And strong, as well. They can be hard like ice, or soft as the morning sky."

"Yours are like the sky on a bright summer day. The ones we only get rarely, where the sky just seems to burst with color. And your lips... I want to kiss them so badly, but I hold back every time." His eyes flashed up to mine, wondering if he'd gone too far. In the intimacy of the moment, I'd almost lost touch with my feelings. Still, as I calmed myself down a bit, the urge to kiss him remained.

"What would you do if I told you I wanted to kiss you, too?"

"I'd tell you I'm a bit afraid I won't be able to hold back when I do. I don't want to scare you off or hurt you."

"Would you notice when I touch your shoulder?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll touch it like this when I'm no longer comfortable with it. Does that sound fair?" Bjorn inched closer, letting his hand slide from behind my ear down to my collar bone, agonizingly slow.

"It does..." I leaned in as well, putting my lips to his. They felt so soft... I gave him another kiss, and a third. Bjorn then gently pushed a little closer, letting our lips touch for just a little longer. It still felt safe, and I still trusted him.

I licked his lips in the kiss, Bjorn's mouth opened a little. His tongue came to meet mine, and as soon as they embraced I felt my breathing grow labored. One of my hands found its way to his chest, while the other found his neck. He let out a hum as he let his hands wander around my neck, and my side.

Bjorn was inexperienced in kissing. He knew that and followed my lead as I went on. He was eager, but I kept to a slow build-up until I heard Bjorn hum again. He broke off the kiss, looking more than a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I - I couldn't hold it back..."

"Hold back what? You didn't go too far."

"I got too excited, and then..." My eyes flashed wide as I realized what he was talking about.

"Bjorn, it's okay if you got hard. That's just what our bodies do. There's nothing wrong with it."

"But if it happens too much without having sex it'll fall off." It took every ounce of willpower I had not to start laughing in his face.

"Who told you that?" He shifted around a little, one hand disappearing underneath the covers for a few seconds. "It's total bullshit. They can start to hurt a little, but if you just blow a load every now and then you'll be fine. It's actually healthy." Now Bjorn was the one surprised.

"What, like get myself off?"

"Yeah. It's totally normal. I do it all the time." He just stared at me. He was truly speechless. "You never did?"

"They told me I'd go blind." I hadn't realized that fairy tale was this old.

"Whoa. Okay. That's a lie. No wonder you're all so aggressive all the time..."

"It's... Frowned upon." That was his way of saying the gods didn't approve.

"It's wonderful. How are you supposed to get to know your own body when you can't get a sense of what you like? Seriously, give it a try once."

"But that would be disrespectful to you. And I could go blind."

"I'd sooner consider it an offense if you don't. Seriously, I'm more than okay with it."

" O - okay..."

"Have you even ever had an orgasm? On purpose?" Bjorn got even more uncomfortable now. I didn't want to push him too much on this. "There's nothing wrong with getting to know your body. Nothing bad will happen if you do." He calmed down at my words a little, lying on his back as he did.

"If you say so... You do seem to know a lot about it."

"I'm positive. I think some people have just been playing a prank on you. A very cruel one at that. You won't go blind, or disrespect anyone, or anything else they've told you." He sighed as he looked at me, seeing how serious I was about it.

"I have to think on it for a bit."

"If it were really that dangerous, I'd be blind as a bat by now." I lay down next to him, and he put his arm around me. I felt perfectly at ease. He barely had any excess fat on his body, and his muscles still prevented any bones from protruding. Almost all men were this trained, and I still remembered how uncomfortable I'd felt when I had seen him those first few times without his shirt on.

"It's so strange how you know so much, and still want to take it slow. I get it, but... If I'd know as much as you do, I'd flaunt it."

"I'd get even more visitors looking for advice. I'm fine only sharing it with you."

"I want you to share all of it. I want to know it, too."

"We'll get there. One step at a time."

"I feel like these were at least three."

"We'll be fine. You'll see." I took a deep breath, almost smelling Bjorn's lingering arousal.

"I'd better get home to change. You know, if I want to err..."

"Take care of that. Yeah, I understand." I leaned on my elbow and kissed him goodbye, realizing it did nothing to help Bjorn calm down again.

"You'll ruin me one day," he sighed. After a quick kiss on my cheek, he got up and put on his shirt he'd left on the floor. I watched him leave, then scooted over to where he had slept. I inhaled his scent, thinking back to the kiss. My hands disappeared underneath the furs for a while.


	56. A Giant Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-09-801

"What did you do to my son?" Ragnar stood in front of me, his hands spread on the table.

"I didn't try and leave him to the wolves. What do you think I did wrong, now?"

"Nothing's... Wrong. He's happy to the point I want to knock out his teeth." I snorted, knowing what he must be referring to.

"And you blame me for how annoying his happiness is to you?" Ragnar sat down, still seemingly angry.

"At least someone's having fun." I focused on Ivar and the crust of bread he was crewing on with his gums. It was the next best thing to a bite ring. His teeth were coming through.

"Bjorn and I are doing well," I said as I noticed Ragnar had calmed down a little more. "Is that not reason enough for us to be happy?"

"So you finally had sex." I shot him a dark look.

"It's none of your business. Can't you just be happy for us?" I was getting tired of the rage that seemed to be his constant companion lately.

"It's rather hard to look at when mine's so far away."

"Then focus on other things. How is Ubbe's training going?"

"He's eager, which is a good thing... Bjorn spends too much time on him, though. He's got plenty to learn himself." There was a snide remark hidden in there, an accusation I was part of Bjorn's apparent slow progress.

"I'm sure he'll find the time to improve soon, himself."

"You do realize that training is where we decide whether we live or die during the raids?"

"I do, I'm not dumb. I just thought you'd be glad to have them spending time together. There's a lot to learn from teaching someone else." He sighed, then sat back a bit.

"I've been hard on everyone. You, too."

"I did cause a lot of uproars. I know there are three different sides to you, at least. There's the warrior intent to discover the world, the caring father that wants the best for his sons..."

"And?"

"The earl that has to keep everyone in check. The one that has to do things he'd rather not. Like having to ask for my help when you still don't fully trust me again."

"You already know what this is about?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but you did mention a lot of earls wanting to meet me once. I've not seen a single one of them yet."

"At least you are still observant. How about your fears? Are they under control?"

"Bjorn has been wonderful. He makes it easier for me to deal with them and hold them at bay. They're even starting to disappear a bit, to tell you the truth. What else worries you?" He chuckled for a bit.

"What you'll do to those earls. Can you promise not to send their sons on a wild goose chase in Frisia? I need them to like and respect all of us when they leave, and that needs to linger when they come back in the spring."

"So I take it you settled on a plan. Have you found someone to tell you where the mouth of the Seine is?"

"Perhaps. I hope to find out if anyone has seen that wanderer I chanced upon years ago."

"That sounds like a longshot."

"Which is why I'll need you to be on your best behavior."

"Consider me behaved." Ragnar narrowed his eyes a little, so I laid it out for him. "I might not agree with you on Ivar, but that doesn't mean I can no longer see the bigger picture. I know what kind of a risk you're taking, and I know what it could mean for Kattegat when you succeed. I won't let you down where this is concerned, Ragnar. I'll give it my all, and then some."

"Even if it might require you to do things I'm certain you're not comfortable with?"

"That depends on what you expect me to do, and how big the payoff will be. Do you know anything?"

"Some old friends might return."

"Horik. I figured he'd show up sooner or later."

"No, not quite. And if he was, I'd need to feel more confident about you, first."

"Then who is it?" I couldn't think of any other earl or king that might know me.

"Earl Jorgenson." The name did ring a bell, very vaguely. "Lagertha's new husband." I took in a deep breath. This hadn't been about me, but about Bjorn. An abusive cunt that was sure to trigger a lot of memories, for the both of us. Ragnar couldn't have picked a better way to test my resolve and calm.

"I'm sure Bjorn will rejoice to see his mother again," I said, pulling out the soggy crust from Ivar's mouth to give him a new one. "When will he arrive?"

"Tomorrow." That left me with little time to prepare. "And from what I've heard, Lagertha won't be there. Jorgenson will surely want to find some company to ease his longing for her."

"And search he will. Have you told Bjorn?"

"I won't have to. I'm sure you'll want to talk to him about it, anyway."

"I think that's a mistake. You know how he feels about that man, and I'm sure he'd like to hear it from you, not me."

"I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong, on both accounts. I only found out for sure today, and I think he's better off hearing it from you." I had my doubts about that last part, but I saw Ragnar wasn't trying to play a game. At least, not with me.

"Then I'd better go tell him." I made to get up, but Ragnar put up a hand.

"Let me know how he reacts. If I need to be aware of something..."

"I'll let you know. Though I still think you should tell him." Ragnar seemed conflicted about it. I sat back down again, trying to see how he was holding up. "Ragnar..." His eyes were still angry, but his body language told me a different story.

"I'll take the boy. You go see Bjorn." I handed over Ivar, feeling a little unsure of what to do next.

"You will go to Paris," I said as I put a hand on his shoulder. Not wanting to linger, I left Ragnar to his thoughts. He curiously eyed his son, trying to look for any redeeming qualities. At least he was trying.

I made my way out to the beach, where Bjorn was working on his sword skills with Rollo. He seemed invigorated. I sat down on a large rock, taking in the sight of my sweaty Viking. Rollo saw me and scoffed, then went back to hacking into Bjorn. They both had taken off their shirts, but Bjorn was the one that I kept watching. Rollo kept him occupied and laid it on thick. He was the better warrior, and Bjorn still had a lot to learn. Still, I also noticed how Rollo had to do his best to keep Bjorn's strikes at a distance. Where it came to strength, they were equal.

"Bjorn," I called out after a few minutes. As he turned around to find me, Rollo smacked him on his ass with the broad of his sword.

"Keep it short," Rollo said as he sat down on the sand, catching his breath.

"I thought you'd meet me at my place tonight," he said as he sat down next to me.

"Something came up. Ragnar told me some things, and he asked me to pass on a message. It's about some earl coming to visit, he'll be here tomorrow." He frowned a little.

"Okay..."

"It's Jorgenson." Bjorn's jawline turned to concrete, and his eyes held a dark glaze.

"Will Lagertha be there as well?"

"No, just him. Your father didn't want to tell you before he knew for sure."

"Then why is he not the one telling me now?"

"He thought you might want to hear it from me, instead. Was he wrong?" Bjorn sighed, letting go of just a little of the darkness.

"No, but I'm not sure he was right, either." I gave him a minute to gather his thoughts. His reaction told me I'd need some time to prepare as well. I'd only seen Bjorn this riled up when I spoke of my father. He suddenly got up, sword in hand. He gestured at Rollo, who got up as well.

"That's faster than I thought." The smile ran away from Rollo's face when he had to move fast to block a blow from Bjorn. With a start, I realized he was working out his anger, and frustration. Rollo was hard-pressed to keep Bjorn from hitting him. "Get a grip," he jeered as Bjorn nearly broke skin. "This is not how to fight, what did she tell you?"

"Jorgenson is coming." Rollo's eyes shot at me, holding an accusatory edge. He lunged back at Bjorn and disarmed him within seconds, pushing him down in the sand with a boot.

"Then stop dicking around and start thinking." Rollo pushed down a last time, then stalked off. "You take care of him, you hear? No fuck-ups until that bastard is gone." I waited for Bjorn to get up by himself. It wouldn't do to get shouted at. He needed to want to get up. It took a while, but as he washed the sand off his chest and back with some water from the fjord I was glad to see him moving around. Had I been told my father would be here tomorrow...

"Would you still like me to join you for dinner?" I asked as he picked up his shirt. "I understand if you need some time alone." He looked up at me, then came over and went to his knees, laying his head down on my lap. I softly went through his hair, letting him know I was here for him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I'm glad you showed me. It's a side of you I've only heard about until now."

"I don't know why I got so angry."

"The anger was always there, it just took until now to get to the surface. It's good to get it out."

"I suppose you know how to deal with emotions better than anyone." I smiled, realizing he was trying to apologize for his show of force.

"Do you still feel angry? Or is it more sadness now?"

"I don't know. I just feel empty." He sighed, then lifted up his head to look me in the eye. Suddenly he grabbed hold of my hips and pulled me up as he stood, slinging me over his shoulder.

"Bjorn," I whispered, feeling a little awkward at the visibility of us. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you home. I owe you dinner." He carried me off, on his shoulder, as if I was nothing but a sword. He was still far from okay, but he needed to pretend to feel good for now. I let him, it's what he needed. I caught Ragnar looking at us, watching us from afar, Ivar in his arms. I gave him a quick thumbs up, then returned my attention to Bjorn.

"You had better make me a great dinner, Bjorn Ironside." He hoisted me up a little, making his shoulder jab into my stomach as I landed again. I grunted as he did.

"You know I hate that name."

"I think it's neat. And I do expect a fabulous dinner, you know." We'd already reached his house, making me jealous he lived so close to the beach. In fact, it was Athelstan's old house, and every time I came here I felt a surge of loss as I realized I'd never see him again. It made me sad to think about it. Life here was so much faster, and so much slower at the same time.

Bjorn put me down and saw me looking pensively, then pulled me into a deep hug. His shirt was a bit wet from the sea water, but I didn't mind. He buried his face in my hair as he took a few deep breaths.

"I don't know if I can face him, Ragnhild. I'll kill him."

"You won't. I'll be there with you, and if you squeeze my hand, I'll drag you outside and talk you down." I let go of him to put my hand on his chest. "I'm here for you, just like you have been for me. You'll get through this."

"How come you're so confident?" He was starting to get angry again, I could see it in his eyes.

"Because I know you. I know you'll do the right thing." I took his sword out of his hands and put it away for him. He wasn't in the mood to eat anything right now, and I wasn't hungry yet, anyway.

As I turned to face him again, I saw he looked defeated. I guided him to a seat and pulled off his boots. Half the beach came out with his feet.

"I can do that myself," he said, but he didn't stop me.

"I know. But right now, you don't have to." He let me take off his shirt as well. I got some cloth to wash him, but Bjorn had a better idea. He pulled out the huge tub and filled it with all the water he could find. It wasn't enough to fill up the whole thing, but it was enough to get him clean. Without a second thought, he pulled off his pants, revealing his pale butt to me. I flushed a little and looked away, but was curious as well.

"If you want I can cover up," he said as he caught me staring. I picked up a few cloths and sat down next to the tub, but as he extended his hand I changed my mind. I let the cloth soak up in the water and brought it to his chest.

Bjorn sighed as he realized I meant to wash him. He leaned back a bit and watched my face as I kept cleaning the sweat and salt and sand off his upper body. I discovered every scar on his skin, and he would tell me how he got it as I touched them. His back was easy, but as I dropped down to his stomach I couldn't help but notice how well-endowed he was. He was definitely not a grower.

"You uhm..." Bjorn grinned as he realized what I was facing. "Do you mind if I leave the rest to you?" He took over the cloth but did give me an appraising look.

"Ragnhild?" I sighed, remembering our agreement.

"I feel awkward about washing the rest of you right now."

"That's okay, I understand." He rushed through the rest as I poured us both some ale. "There's still plenty of water if you'd like to bathe as well." Getting clean before meeting Jorgenson was tempting, but to bathe in front of Bjorn...

I wasn't sure about it. I felt the urge to jump in with him, and the resistance telling me to run for the hills.

"You never saw me naked before."

"This would be the first time. Though I might have seen you in my dreams, and my fantasies. You look amazing."

"Now you make me worry if I'll live up to your expectations," I muttered. Still, my hands found the lacing on the front of my dress. Bjorn shifted around in the water and leaned on the edge of the tub with his arms, letting his head rest on them. His eyes were hungry for every scrap of skin I'd reveal. I bared my shoulders first, then got my arms out of the sleeves.

"If you expect us to share a bath one of these days, we'll need to get a bigger tub." Bjorn got the hint and got up. He looked down at me for a moment, as did I. Emboldened by his calm, I slowly lifted up my dress. As I pulled it over my head, I saw Bjorn was not left untouched by the sight of me. He stepped out of the tub, but before he got a chance to do or say anything, I got in and let myself down in the water.

I couldn't believe I'd actually done it. I felt such a rush going through my body I didn't even notice Bjorn was getting dressed again.

"You're getting more comfortable taking big steps," he said, sounding proud of me.

"You bring out the worst in me... But in a good way." I started washing my legs first, a weird habit to have when living here. I hit a dilemma when I'd reached my thighs. Touching myself where Bjorn was present, if only to get clean... He tried to make it seem like he was busy with cooking, but I caught him stealing glances every now and then. I was watching him like a hawk.

I just rushed through it, then turned my back to Bjorn as I washed my chest. Then I hit the second snag. Normally I'd wring myself in all kinds of bends and weird poses to reach all of my back, but with Bjorn here...

"Bjorn?" He pretended to not notice I was naked in his house and failed at it spectacularly. "Would you mind washing my back? I can't reach it..." Halfway through my plea Bjorn already dropped his knife and came to sit beside me. I sat up straight, legs folded to the side, and my hair covering most of my breasts.

"I'd love to," he said as he lowered a clean cloth into the basin. The cool drops of water almost sizzled as they landed on my heated skin. "You look a bit... Bothered. Are you still okay with this?"

"I'm more than okay with this," I said as my back arched along with the cloth lapping up across my spine. "You have a gentle touch."

"Too gentle?"

"Perhaps a little, I do mean to get clean... I'm not made of straw." Bjorn put a little more pressure on the cloth, making my spine move along even more.

"I'd say you have enough trouble dealing with gentle as it is." I paid him no mind and eased into his motions. As he reached my shoulders I pulled up my hair, so he could reach them better.

"I can't find a single scar. How can that be?"

"I've got a few scratches on my hands," I pointed out as I held one up for inspection. "I'm not as careful as you make me sound."

"Yeah, but still... You had cats when you grew up, right?"

"My mother got their claws pulled out to make sure we'd not get hurt. Damn disgrace, if you ask me."

"And no other scars I might not be able to see now?"

"Not that I know of. I guess I'm just blessed with good skin and invisible scars."

"If you taught me anything it's to appreciate the small things." I sighed, realizing what I was trying to do. I turned around to face him, pressing my chest against the edge of the tub.

"I think tomorrow's visit is already starting to get me nervous."

"Why would it affect you?"

"Because you've told me enough about that man for me to realize how much like my own father he is. And I don't want to see you get hurt because of him."

"He can't hurt me, Ragnhild. Not really."

"Then I'm not damaged, either. Don't kid yourself, Bjorn. Jorgenson left his marks on you. You might not want to realize it, but he has. The mention of a name shouldn't cause such a reaction. Ragnar and Rollo wouldn't be concerned about you if he hadn't. Just because he didn't get to you the same way my father got to me doesn't mean it's just fine." I kept looking into his eyes, seeing the rage that stormed inside.

"I'm not -" I raised an eyebrow, daring him to finish that thought. He pressed his lips tight.

"You're not what, Bjorn? Not broken? Not as weak as I am? Not just as capable as every other human being to get hurt like that?" His eyes softened as I put a hand on the side of his face.

"I'm not as strong as you. I can't talk about it like you can." A warm tingling spread through my back. I hadn't expected him to say something like that.

"My sweet Bjorn... You don't have to. I see it in your eyes when I tell about my scars. There's recognition, and old wounds, and the constant drive to prove yourself. It's always been there, but it's never been this clear to me. You don't have to agree, or feel it, or talk about it if that doesn't suit you, but I happen to like the fact you seem to understand me so well because you went through something similar. It makes it easier for me to talk to you. I feel like you understand what it feels like. And if I'm wrong that's fine as well, because I wouldn't wish knowing what it's like upon my worst enemies."

"What do you recognize?"

"He used to belittle you, by making you feel like crap for wanting to grow up. You wanted to break free from your mother, and him, and he wouldn't let you. When you went against him, you got put down. Ragnar may see it as loyalty, but I see it as obedience as if you were a well-trained dog. There's nothing wrong with going against your parents."

"It wasn't as bad as you make it sound."

"Only you know if it was. And again, I hope I'm wrong and just see things to comfort myself. Just know that if you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here. Even if you want to tell me how wrong I am." He leaned in for a kiss, letting his hands go through my hair as he did. I got on my knees and dove into the kiss, losing myself in the reckless abandon and comfort between us. My hands clutched his shirt, pulling him in closer, while his hands found my wet, bare back. Only when we got up for air, our foreheads touching, did I realize how vulnerable I was, naked in his arms.

Bjorn noticed my sudden discomfort and cleared his throat, then got up and started to rummage around with the food. I got up and dried myself off, then hastily pulled my dress back over my head. I'd almost lost myself in the heat of passion, too worried about Bjorn and making him feel comfortable and safe to keep my own feelings in mind. And still, now I had time to feel about it, I just felt elated.


	57. Jorgenson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-09-801

After spending the night in Bjorn's arms, I made my way over to my own house to get dressed for the arrival of earl Jorgenson. As the bells rang out through the town I made my way down to the beach again. I saw Ragnar was making sure Bjorn would be alright, and as I approached I saw he was seemingly pleased with what he'd heard. Bjorn's eyes shot to me as he caught sight of me. Ragnar took me in, as well. He gave me the slightest nod of approval, then led the way.

"Why do I get the feeling you dressed up for this?" Bjorn whispered as he took my hand in his. I'd decided on one of the dresses Siggy had given me, that used to belong to her daughter.

"Because the best revenge on these kinds of men is living well. If you show them they can't hurt you and you won't take their crap, they lose interest."

"Are you telling me not to fight?"

"I'm telling you not to react. Remember what I said, he wants you to go against him. Don't give him what he wants." He raised my hand for him to kiss, then took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. With a bit of luck, he would only stay here for a few days.

"Earl Jorgenson, welcome to Kattegat."

"Likewise, earl Ragnar." The men greeted each other rather stiffly, despite the warm tones in their voices. Ragnar introduced his family, and then Jorgenson stood eye to eye with Bjorn. The earl was smaller, and less muscular, and had a greasy mop of brown hair on his head. He didn't seem intimidating at all, except for his eyes. Those were... He didn't make me feel at ease.

"Earl Jorgenson. I was sorry to hear my mother wouldn't be joining you."

"Don't worry, boy. I'm taking good care of her." Bjorn had to bite back a reply. Jorgenson turned to me, looking a little confused.

"This is her," Ragnar said. "Ragnhild, the vessel of Freyja." He took me in and must have caught on I was nervous.

"I thought she'd be taller."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, earl Jorgenson." I kept it at that, much to his confusion. Without a further word he stalked past us, Ragnar shooting me a warning glance as he walked past.

"At least try and be civil," Aslaug muttered as she followed her husband, Ivar in her arms. Bjorn squeezed my hand in support as we followed after the boys, Sigurd stumbling around a bit. I held his hand to speed him up a little, if only to keep us from entering much later than the others.

"I see you still need a babysitter," Jorgenson said as he saw us enter. His lazy smile made me want to gouge out his eyes. Bjorn ignored his comment and sat down beside me while Sigurd crawled up into my lap. He distracted me for a little by pawing at my chest. He still liked to pretend he was a wolf. "So, Ragnar. Tell me, how did you manage to get a vessel of Freyja to babysit your boys?" He just wouldn't let go of his joke.

"It seems all my boys are besotted with her, as she is with them. Though it's different with Bjorn."

"Really now? Did he finally manage to get laid?" He didn't even consider us to be part of the conversation.

"What's it to you?" Bjorn retorted, making Jorgenson turn his head.

"Am I not allowed to be happy for you, my stepson?" He managed to push a hint of surprise in there as if Bjorn had offended him. It was despicable, luring him into taking the bait like that.

"I don't think this is appropriate conversation to have in front of the children," I said, keeping my eyes on Sigurd. "How were your travels, earl Jorgenson?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Thor made our travels pleasant. Though there was a lad with us who couldn't handle the waves. He puked all over."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You must have been very inconvenienced by his misfortune." I glanced up, seeing Jorgenson's nostrils flare a little as he took me in.

"Yes, it was quite uncomfortable."

"Earl Jorgenson," Ragnar said, eager to stop the exchange between me and the man, "I heard you went raiding in the Baltic. How did you fare?"

"Better than the raid on Frisia, at any rate. I heard it was a bust."

"We ran into some unexpected troubles, but I wouldn't say it was a failure. King Horik may have lost more than he bargained for, but I assure you, as far as I'm concerned it was quite successful." Bjorn leaned in a little, letting his thumb caress mine as he kept taking slow, deep breaths. I returned his soft touch, and as Jorgenson and Ragnar ended up in a pissing contest dressed as a pageant I felt myself relax a little. Sigurd stood up on my lap, admiring my hair as he played with it in his tiny fists.

"Ragnhild?" I looked up as I heard Ragnar speak my name. "Would you mind showing earl Jorgenson your marks?" I'd rather not. I'd rather, really fucking not. Not all three of them, not here in front of everybody.

"I'm not exactly dressed for show and tell," I said, not liking Jorgenson's eyes one bit. He looked like he was more than happy to suggest going somewhere private. I did not even want to risk getting into such a vulnerable position with a man like him.

Ragnar gave me a questioning look, his eyes flashing over at Bjorn. If I refused now, Jorgenson would lay it thick on Bjorn again. "But we're all here among friends and family, are we not?" As I handed Sigurd to Bjorn, I saw he didn't like this one bit. Neither did I.

"Actually, this is terrible light to see them in," Bjorn said, looking up at Jorgenson. "You'd be doing yourself a disservice by letting her show you now." From what I saw in his eyes, he meant to keep me safe.

"Really, now?" Bjorn put an arm around my waist as he pulled me down on the bench again.

"Trust me, I've seen them plenty."

"Bjorn," I started, but he kept staring at his stepfather.

"The evening light is the best." Jorgenson gritted his teeth for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

"I'm sure my son knows best," Ragnar said, realizing what was going on. "I'm certain he has seen all of them quite recently."

"Then I guess I have something to look forward to before the feast. I'm certain the entire hall will enjoy the sight as much as me." He knew. He saw it in the way Bjorn and I looked at each other. Jorgenson had figured out how much we meant to one another, and now wanted to play us out against ourselves.

I just wanted to leave. I couldn't think straight anymore with so much tension and phrasing going on at the same time. I didn't want that creep to see my skin or touch me, and I didn't want him to hurt Bjorn.

"No, just you. If Ragnhild still wants to extend you that courtesy, that is. She is a free woman, after all." He caught my eyes, and for a second, I felt guilty for wanting to go back on my word. Then I realized my body was mine, and even Bjorn was defending me. Jorgenson could eat a dick.

"I'll think about it," I said, turning my attention back on Sigurd. I didn't want to see the disappointment in Ragnar's eyes, nor the flaring rage in Jorgenson's. "After all, it is my decision. And they are my marks."

"Bjorn, Ragnhild." Siggy's clear voice called out through the hall from the other side, catching everyone's attention. "Could I borrow you for a second? I have some things I need to go over with you before tonight." Happy to get a reprieve, I got up and Bjorn handed Sigurd to Ragnar as he followed me. I avoided looking at Jorgenson, leaving him behind with Bjorn by my side.

Siggy's eyes were kind as she ushered us back, then turned hard as we were out of sight from the others.

"What was that all about? You can't pull shit like that with a man like him, no matter what he did to your mother."

"He's an asshole. I won't let him touch her in front of everyone."

"I'm not comfortable with it," I said.

"And what does your comfort have to do with anything? Do you think I've never had to use my body to get ahead?"

"You didn't experience what she did. We're not you and Rollo, or you and Haraldson." Siggy looked ready to slap him.

"Do you really think you are more important than the earldom? Ragnar sent out rumor he's going to Paris, and that means we need allies. Do you plan on shooting down every single one of them for wanting to see the miracle you are?" Bjorn spoke up before I could.

"Just this one. You don't know him like I do, Siggy. He beats my mother." I grabbed hold of Bjorn's hand, knowing he didn't like to talk about it with anyone at all. "I won't let him hurt anyone else I care about." Siggy hadn't known that titbit or she wouldn't have looked so surprised.

"Lagertha is a grown woman. She can take care of herself, Bjorn. Don't fight her battles because you feel sorry you couldn't help her. And as for you..." She took a deep breath as she took me in. Her tone softened. "I know what you've been through, and how painful it still is. But you have to realize this is part of the game, as Ragnar calls it. You have to use whatever you can to get ahead. If you're not ready for that..." I knew she meant it as motherly advice. I knew she only meant to make me see the truth. But I wouldn't give up on Bjorn just because of it. I cared for him too much to just cast him aside.

"Ragnhild..." Bjorn must have mistaken my look.

"Siggy's right. But I won't let that creep get his way. I won't show myself to him. And I refuse to let Ragnar down." Bjorn put his hand behind my ear, softly stroking my skin.

"And how do you think to achieve that?" Siggy asked.

"Do you have a dress that still looks nice enough for a fancy feast, but you don't wear anymore?"

"Plenty... Why do you ask?"

"Because I thought of a compromise. I won't have to undress, and Jorgenson will still get to see one of my markings. I might need your help, though..." Siggy tried to stare me down, but I wouldn't let her.

"Is it something you will feel comfortable with?" Bjorn asked.

"Yes. I'm sure." He kissed me, softly. I had to crane my neck a little, but I didn't mind.

"What do you have in mind?" Siggy asked.

"First we'll need to find a proper dress, I'll explain it when we get to work. I don't know how long it might take..."

"We've got about four hours. Are you sure that's enough time?" Bjorn asked.

"I trust in Siggy's abilities," I said with a smile. "If anyone can get us out of this mess, it's her." Flattered and annoyed at the same time, Siggy rolled her eyes.

"Well then, let's get going. We'll take the back door, it's quicker anyway. Bjorn, you go back. Make yourself useful and come up with some story to cover for us." Without waiting for a response, Siggy dragged me off.


	58. Walking Contradiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-09-801

Siggy had several good options, but the dress that stood out most to me was a cheerful light green.

"I hate the color, you can keep it if you want," she said as she put the others back in a chest. "Let’s hear it. What is this plan of yours?"

"Well... Where I come from there are a lot of different... Let's call it ways to dress. And one particularly popular type of dress has an open back. Cut it low enough..."

"And your mark will be visible without having to pull it off. But how will the dress stay in place?"

"The dress I had used straps that were tied in the neck, but maybe it's best to sow it together. Then we just need to remove fabric here and here, and then keep enough of it at the top to make it look like the dress was always made to be worn like that." Siggy didn't know what to make of it.

"You do realize that to us showing that much skin is... sensual."

"To me, wearing underclothes is appropriate attire for a fun day at the beach. We showed a lot more skin, and I still felt comfortable with it. I have some shirts at home that I sometimes spend the day in that would make you blush, but they're normal to me."

"And you really want to cut it out that low?"

"It'll flow well with my back. But if you think it'll be too much... I don't want to give Jorgenson a heart attack." Siggy sighed, then told me to get changed. I had no trouble changing in front of her, I noticed.

"The cloth as well, it would cover the mark." Now I did feel a little uncomfortable, but Siggy already busied herself getting her sewing kit out.

As I stood upright, she cut through the back of the dress down the middle.

"I'm still not sure, Ragnhild. I can't exactly sow it back together if I cut down too far. I'll see what it looks like on this height first." I agreed and soon felt a soft breeze past my shoulder blades.

"And the sleeves?"

"They can go off as well, as long as it leaves a nice line in the front." Siggy fumbled a bit with the fabric, then hummed.

"Let's keep them on. I don't want Bjorn to have a heart attack, either." She cut off the flaps with a little room to sow it back, then asked me to move my arms a bit.

"It looks horrible. The fabric is too stiff to flow down like you said it would."

"Maybe you could cut it out lower and use strips to bind it together? Like a lacing on the lower back?"

"It would have to go pretty low... Are you sure that would be okay?"

"As long as the small of my back is covered, would that work?" I tried to look back but couldn't see a thing.

"I think it might... But the sleeves could get troublesome."

"Let's start on it, then. We'll find out in a bit, I suppose." Siggy set to work, cutting the dress down even further.

"I can see the appeal... Just imagine a dress like this in silk or wool."

"I'd be happy to share some more designs if you want to give Rollo a heart attack."

"Don't tempt me. I'll be asked to make dresses for the entire town." Her pulling and prodding as she cut holes for a string continued in a steady, smooth rhythm.

"There's quite some skin showing... It leaves little to the imagination."

"Good. That way Jorgenson won't be tempted to ask to see the other two."

"I must admit, this is quite an ingenious way of circumventing everything." Glad as I was for her praise, now this idea was starting to take form I found myself wondering just what Bjorn would have to say about it.

"I promised Ragnar I would do my best. I know he still has doubts after what happened with Bjorn."

"This is sure to make him realize you moved past that. Now, let's take a look at those sleeves." Siggy tied the chord and I twirled around a bit. Her eyes took me in as if she was catching everything wrong with me.

"Those sleeves seem wrong somehow. I'm trying to imagine what it might look like in your mind, and well..." I looked down and saw what she meant. The sleeves were sticking out a bit at the top, making it look ridiculously clumsy. They were only connected to the dress on the front, anyway.

"Then off they go. I was thinking we could pull this hem all the way up past my side and up to my neck, so it'll be a smooth line."

"I can see that work... I just hope it'll be strong enough to stay put."

"It will. The sleeves do nothing to keep up the bodice as it is." I sat down on a seat to prove my point. Siggy sighed deeply, looking at me with a look she didn't give me often. "What is it?"

"In moments like these, I fear you might be stronger than all of us, and we're just fools dancing to your tune. If you can pull this off... You'll have to sell it, it's not just the dress that will need to make an impression."

"I still need you to do all the work, Siggy. And I can promise you, I'm not playing any tune. I just want to help Bjorn, and not lose myself in the process." She gave me a wan smile and took a seat herself, taking off the sleeves and tucking in the hems. I had to raise an arm to let her get to my side.

"Where did your hair go?" she asked surprised. I looked down to see what she meant. My armpits were hairless.

"Oh, that. Weird habit from back home. It feels a lot less... I don't know. It's just what I'm used to. Does it look weird to you?"

"It does... Though I must admit I used to cut most of it off for a while because it grew to be a little uncomfortable at times. How did you get it so smooth?"

"I mixed some pine wax with water and some oil, that didn't tear off my skin. It's not that good for my skin, but it beats trying to shave with a knife." She snorted.

"Yes, I imagine it does..."

"Terrible cuts, that one time I tried. Took a moon to fully heal."

"You can pay me back for this hassle if you show me how to get rid of that hair. The longer I see it the more I like it."

Siggy and I spoke of other hygienic habits from my time, and she was fascinated with the concept of using a tampon outside of battle, as well as the idea of shaving your legs. She didn't care much for lingerie or nail polish, though, thinking it too much and too whorish.

When I got up so she could make the finishing touches I felt invigorated. The dress fit like a glove with all the modifications, and it felt good to be able to have full motion of my arms and shoulders while I was still properly dressed.

"I will need to braid your hair," Siggy said as she finished the strap in my back. "With your hair down, no one will even see that your dress is this much different." I highly doubted that. My hair wasn't exactly as thick as hers was, and it barely reached past my shoulder blades. Still, she was right. The whole idea was to have my mark visible to the world, not hide it behind a curtain of hair.

"And you already know what would go best with this dress, I assume?"

"I might have thought of some options... Nothing too elaborate."

"As long as we have time, go ahead. Nothing too frilly though, you know I don't like that."

"It wouldn't do to distract from the dress anyway. I was thinking of something similar to what Aslaug wears today." I glanced up at Siggy and felt my face turn to one in horror.

"Isn't that an insult to her?"

"You can't exactly outshine her, but at least match her. She's barely made an effort on her hair since Ivar was born."

"You know best... I know you hate to see me get into trouble."

"In that case, I might as well send you out naked. You were trouble since the day I met you." It only took her about ten minutes to get it just as she envisioned.

We drank a cup of tea since we still had time before the feast would begin, and to see if the dress would hold up. As long as I remembered to pull up my skirts before I sat down I would be fine.

Rollo came in to change, and he had already taken off his shirt when he noticed me sitting. He leaned back a bit at the sight of me.

"I see you decided to humor the pig?"

"I decided to do what I feel comfortable with."

"And thus you fear my brother's ire more than you fear losing Bjorn?"

"I only fear what might happen when everyone sees what Siggy did to the back of my dress." Rollo raised an eyebrow as he took a step to the left, taking a peek. He snickered, then laughed.

"You expect me to believe you're fine with going out dressed like that? Bjorn told me what happened yesterday, stop lying to yourself." And just what part was he referring to?

"I don't fear people seeing my back, Rollo. I wore these kinds of dresses before, and I assure you I am fine." He sighed as he loosened the lacing on his pants, making me feel uncomfortable. It wasn't just my nudity I had issues with.

I got up and cleared away the mugs, then made sure my dress was still okay. A finger ran down my spine, making me freeze and hold my breath.

"Rollo!"

"If we can see it, we can touch it. You do realize that, don't you?" I had known. I had thought on it over and over, and had figured that Bjorn would be there to deter anyone who tried to get near.

"I just didn't think you would want to touch me like that. Last time you tried, I got in a good punch." Rollo scoffed, then stepped away.

"At least try and keep from hitting that filth in the face tonight. Your dress might just be for naught." I turned around and saw him peck Siggy on the cheek, who was still upset with him.

"Are you positive you want to go through with this?" she asked a last time.

"I am. I'm trusting there will be enough men to protect me from Jorgenson."

"All the same, it might be wise to cover up during the walk over, and the feast. I have some wraps over in that chest." Siggy made sure her own hair was still in order as I picked a dark red wrap to go with the dress. "No, are you insane? Those colors don't match! Gods, you really are a walking contradiction, aren’t you?" Siggy rushed over and pulled out a dark green wrap, laced with golden thread. She even helped me put it on, making sure my back was properly covered.

Making our way over to the hall, I saw the sun gave off a warm, orange glow. Bjorn hadn't just made something up earlier.

"Bjorn," I said as I approached him. "Did it..."

"I got out shortly after you left. Did it work? Whatever your plan was?"

"It did. I might need you to watch my back though, literally." Siggy snorted as she walked past.

"What do you mean?"

"Before you say anything, I am comfortable wearing this, but I'm not so much a fan of that whole if you can see it, you can touch it rule." His eyes narrowed as his hand slid up from my hip, then going wide as he had reached the bottom part of the lacing.

"Ragnhild..."

"I know what you're thinking, and no. I'm sure I'll get through the night because I trust you to look out for me." He sighed, knowing this night could go either way. But if it would go fine, it would mean a huge leap in the right direction for us.

"You were right about the light," I heard Jorgenson say. "Have you reconsidered?" I turned to face him, then took off my wrap. Whatever he thought he'd be seeing, Bjorn got to see it first. I felt his fingers move past the bare skin, and I didn't shiver or shake for one bit.

"I have. The light is especially lovely tonight, it would be a waste to not use it." I showed him my back, facing Bjorn's chest as I did. My hand found his heart, my fingers softly sliding over his shirt.

"My, what a lovely dress that is..." I heard his footsteps approach, then Bjorn covered my back with the wrap again.

"I don't want you to catch a cold, you silly woman," he told me. "You might have thought about that before you dressed up like this."

"I hardly got to see it."

"Didn't you once tell me you could see better than the average man?" Bjorn asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. I tightened the wrap a bit, then dragged Bjorn inside with me, trying to hide a smile.

"All that work for just a few seconds. It seems like such a waste," I said, feeling like something else was sure to follow this exchange.

"I'm sure you'll get to wear that dress again, to my great delight."

"You're such a dirty man." We found our seats opposite of Ragnar and Aslaug. Ragnar eyed us warily, no doubt having heard of the plan from Rollo and Siggy. He hid a smile as he saw Jorgenson approaching, who was scowling as he took his place beside Ragnar.

"I trust you enjoyed the light?" Ragnar asked.

"I barely got a view."

"Didn't you say your eyes had the sight of a hawk? I'm sure you saw enough to remember for the rest of your life." Jorgenson realized we were playing with him, but he couldn't contradict his own words.

"How can I even be sure it wasn't just drawn on?"

"Are you accusing me of playing the gods false? I do not take kindly to those who would use the gods and their might for their own gain." I gave him a hard stare, making Jorgenson grit his teeth.

"Not at all... I just thought there would be more to you. I must say, I'm starting to think this visit wasn't worth it."

"On the contrary," Ragnar said. "I think your visit here was invaluable. It was most... Enlightening."

"And what might you be implying?"

"I'm implying you won't join us to Paris. You have nothing of worth to offer me." Bjorn was at least as surprised as I was. Even Aslaug turned to face her husband at the words. Ragnar kept his eyes forward, looking to me and Bjorn to get an idea of how Jorgenson was reacting. I saw the man slowly turn red in the face, then he got up.

"I will not stand for such insolence. You haven't seen the last of me, Ragnar." Ragnar just took a sip of his ale, as if nothing was happening at all and he was enjoying a quiet dinner with his family. He tried to leave, but I stopped him.

"Earl Jorgenson," I called out as I loosened my wrap. "Safe travels." I put the wrap on my lap, exposing my back to the rest of the hall. Flutters of whispered conversation swelled up, making Jorgenson even more appalled with all of us. He brusquely rushed out, not casting so much as a glance backward.

"It seems you're learning to play by your own rules," Ragnar said as he saw me looking rather smugly.

"I do tend to cause a lot of trouble."


	59. Exploring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-09-801

After the feast Bjorn walked me home, keeping a protective arm around my waist as he did.

"I still can't believe you dressed up like this," he said as we reached my house.

"We dress very differently where I come from." I went inside, pulling Bjorn behind me. "Remember that time at the lake? I really didn't stop to think what it might mean to you."

"Yeah, to say I was surprised would be a bit of an understatement. I was certain you'd make a move." I took off the wrap and put it down carefully, knowing it had to get back to Siggy soon. Then I loosened the string on the back. Bjorn cleared his throat as he sat down, making sure I realized I was getting undressed in front of him.

"Thank you, for tonight. For the trust you put in me, and the trust I could put in you."

"I'm just glad you seem to be holding on so well. I was worried about you." I pulled on the skirts, allowing me to pull the strap from my neck. "But it seems you're starting to get a lot more comfortable showing skin."

"I don't plan on anyone seeing as much as you are right now, Bjorn." The dress fell to the ground, leaving me naked before him. I watched his eyes flit over my body, making me feel strangely calm. He wasn't just looking, he was admiring. It felt good to have him relish in the sight of me.

It was enough for today, for now. I turned around to pick up my nightshirt from the foot end of the bed and pulled it over my head, then joined him at the table.

"How do you feel about Ragnar not wanting to take Jorgenson with him to Paris?" I asked, changing the subject rather abruptly as I started pulling out the braids Siggy had put in.

"I can't say I'm surprised. Having a dick like him around to keep everyone on edge is just a liability."

"I think so, too. Still, to have Ragnar tell it to his face like that..."

"It's probably to keep my mother safe. If he were to find out with her there..." I sighed as I caught his meaning. I still had difficulty imagining it, the great shieldmaiden Lagertha, willingly letting a man abuse her like that. It made my stomach churn.

"It won't be pretty either way. But we have to trust what Siggy said, she can take care of herself."

"That hardly takes away my worries. Still, I'm glad he didn't get to touch you."

"You didn't even give him a chance. You were very quick to wrap me up."

"He... Just had this look in his eyes. I can't really explain it, he used to look at my mother like that as well. And nothing good ever came afterward." I put a hand on his, softly stroking his fingers. He looked troubled.

"Then thank you, for keeping me safe in more ways than I know. If you say you saw trouble coming, I believe you. You know him better than I ever will, or want to for that matter."

"It's getting easier for you to trust me, isn't it? It's not just tonight, it's all these little things that add up together."

"It is. I am. Do you want to spend the night?"

"This early? I'm not even tired."

"I wasn't implying we'd go straight to sleep." Bjorn grinned and got up, taking off most of his clothes as he did. I got into bed first, snuggling up underneath the comforting warmth of the grey wolf fur. I had a pretty good idea what parts we'd be exploring tonight.

As Bjorn crawled in next to me, his arm instantly found my waist. He leaned in close, our bodies almost touching chest to chest.

"I loved the sight of your back. Just the curve of it was enough to leave me speechless." He softly traced my spine as he told me.

"I didn't have to suppress any kind of shiver when you touched me there. It made me realize you make me feel safe. Especially when you put your arm around me."

"Like this?"

"Yes, like that. It makes me feel safe and protected, like I can take on the world." I let my hand slide to his biceps, feeling the heavy muscles underneath. "I feel safe when I'm in your arms. You make me feel... Accepted, and secure, and like it's okay for me to make a mistake."

"Now I have the urge to train even harder. I like how your fingers are so soft wherever you touch me. Sometimes I get the sense that you're a bit afraid to touch me, as if you're afraid to hurt me, and at other times you seem so sure. And then at other times, I can barely tell if you're touching me at all." Bjorn let his hand slide to my side, making me yelp a bit. His face turned worried, and his hand completely withdrew.

"You don't like that?"

"I do, it's just... I'm awfully ticklish there." I guided his hand back, then let myself get used to the weight of his hand. "I like it, it's just that my skin is terribly sensitive there. Don't you have spots like that on your body?"

"Well..." I smiled, wondering what it could be. "The bottom of my feet are like that. I can't stand it if someone touches them."

"I didn't know."

"It's not like we've gotten that far down the furs yet, and it's not a big deal. I just don't like it when someone else touches them."

"Is it the same for the top?"

"No, just the bottom. I always hate having to get used to new boots, or wearing boots someone else walked in before me."

"That's good to know. I'm not that picky about my feet, I love the feel of grass between my toes."

"Really? I just don't see the appeal."

"It tickles a bit, but mostly I like it because it means I have time to relax, and have fun, and I don't have to worry about anything."

"And what about your side? What do you like about me touching you like this?"

"I'm okay with it. Aside from the tickling, I don't really think it's all that special."

"It makes me feel like you trust me. I can still remember this one time you held your hands on my chest, and I had my hands on your sides. It made me feel like I could take on the world, if only because we stood like that for a while."

"That's a very sweet thing to say. Now it makes me feel a little stronger than before, like, you make me stronger."

"And now holding you like this makes me want to kiss you."

"That's so strange, I have the same urge." Bjorn let his hand slide to my back and pulled me in for a kiss. I loved how he seemed to know what I was okay with and connected the dots so easily. We'd spent a lot of time like this already, and it was starting to pay off.

Our tongues met, clashing against each other to prove our want to the other. My fingers found the scars on his back, moving from one to the other, while Bjorn kept touching the small of my back through my nightgown. Slowly he made his way up. He broke off the kiss as he bumped into my breast with his hand, and as a result felt my nails dig into his skin. I withdrew my hands as well, not knowing what to do now.

"I..."

"I know you didn't mean to. It's okay. Sorry about your back."

"That was... Intense."

"Are you sure? I should've cut them, they're getting a bit long."

"I'm sure. I'm just wondering if it was because I err..." I wanted to kiss him right away, but we'd agreed to always talk about confusion right away.

"Yes. It was because you touched my breast." I dove right back into the kiss, letting one of my legs glide up his. He hummed in approval as his hands traveled across the bare skin. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to touch my breasts on purpose, but the hungry look in Bjorn's eyes as he told me he liked the scratching made me want to tear him up.

"You're driving me insane. If you won't stop, I won't be able to." I wanted to test him by dragging my nails down his back slowly, but that would have to wait for another time. I let my hands drift to his chest, then to his head.

Bjorn was still having difficulty containing himself. He kept on lingering at the edge of my nightgown, always returning there after he let his hands wander off from my side. His kissing grew deeper, bordering on lust. This was getting to be too much for him.

Letting him get this riled up while knowing we wouldn't take it any further was just cruel. I knew Bjorn was patient, and that he wouldn't hurt me like that. I pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"It's not just the nails, is it?"

"How can you tell?"

"It's in the way you kiss me. It's like you're begging me to connect with you even more."

"I'm not begging," he muttered as he turned to lie on his back. His flushing face told me otherwise.

"It's okay if you do. At any rate, I know you're anxious to be together. I know it can't be easy to have to stop all the time."

"You are making it a bit of a challenge at times..."

"And I'm sorry for that. I guess I just..."

"Ragnhild, it's fine. I know this is just the start, and I know that once we do, it'll be all the better for it. I think half the reason the town thinks we've had sex already is that I let slip once how you react when I let my finger run down your spine, like this." At his demonstration, I felt my body heat up, and now I was the one who had to hold back.

"Rollo told me you let a lot more than that slip," I threw out as I withdrew my leg from atop his, writhing around a bit as I calmed myself down. Bjorn didn't really understand what it meant for a woman to get soaking wet, not yet. He'd have to see that one to believe it.

"He asked me what we did after he knocked me down. You always tell me to talk about stuff that worries me, so I did. He was really understanding about it, somehow. He thought it was sweet that you take the time to teach me."

"Did that include any details on what we've been doing?" I tried to keep my voice pleasant, but Bjorn noticed something was off.

"Are you worried I told him anything about your body? Or how you make me feel when you're touching me?"

"I'm terrified you did, and I am now trying to bite back the urge to scream at you regardless of the answer. So please, answer my question." Bjorn pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me and pressing my chest to his.

"Ragnhild, I didn't tell him shit about you. All I said is that you have this way of making every night I stay over even more intense than the one before. He can believe what he wants from there. I didn't tell him about this trail down your neck, or the way you look when I run my fingers like this." He followed through on the motions he described, letting his fingers touch on my neck and jawline. I knew the look he was talking about. It was full of hope and promises yet to make. The child-like need to have confirmed what I already knew: Bjorn wouldn't let me down like that. "But most of all, I didn't tell him because I want to keep this, all that we're doing, all to ourselves. I had to work hard to get to this point with you, and I won't just let anyone know all these things."

"That sounds a little like you're jealous..."

"Only a little. I know what men like Jorgenson fantasize about. They're all too fond of talking about it when they're well in their cups."

"And what would you like to do to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you were the type to boast like that to your friends, and could do to me whatever you wanted. What would it be? If you could have me right now?" Bjorn clearly felt out of his element at my question.

"I - I don't..."

"It's not a trick question, Bjorn. It's very common where I'm from. You start talking about what you'd want to do if we're both naked, to get a bit of a feel of what the other one likes. It's dirty talk."

"Oh, err... Alright. I'd err... Kiss you?" This was one of those times his inexperience shone through. We'd started bumping into it more and more, and unlike Bjorn, I saw it as a good thing.

"Like this?" I put a chaste peck on his cheek. My eyes dared him to speak his mind.

"No, not at all. More like this." He pulled me close again and let his hands wander free across my back. He touched the hem of my nightgown, then went on to my legs, then brushed past my thighs... It made me blush.

"I'd call that more than just a kiss. That's like three steps up, at least."

"Really? Then why do you always look just as flushed after we kiss? Is that not part of it?"

"There are many kinds of kisses. There's the chaste one you'd give your parents." I pecked his cheek lightly. "And the one you give to friends, and children." A slow press of my lips on his forehead. "Or the celebratory victory kiss..." I mashed my lips up to his cheek. I got up a bit, leaning on my elbow to get a better view of Bjorn's face. "And then there's the quick, careless greeting between lovers." I kissed him on the lips, and was gone before he could respond. "That's still very normal, and not that strange to see in public. There's a lot of other kisses, though, and those tend to be frowned upon beyond the front door.

"Like what?" Bjorn asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Like the slow kiss good morning, or the long kiss goodnight..." I demonstrated both of them, then leaned even closer.

"There's the tease..." I kissed the corner of his lips, making him chuckle a bit. "And if you give a few of those it becomes a frustrating one." After a few near-miss kisses Bjorn tried to catch my lips, but I wouldn't let him.

"That's not teasing, that's just mean."

"It's only mean when I follow up with this," I responded with a smile. I descended on his neck, slowly making my way down as I showered him in soft kisses.

"How far down do you plan on going?" He breathed hard as I reached his chest.

"That's the mean part." Bjorn pulled me up and laid me on my back, hanging over me with his body.

"It's not fair how you know all these things," he whispered in my ear. He was only making this harder for himself.

"Isn't that why I'm showing you?"

"If you'd let me, I'd show you a thing or two..." He gave me a teasing kiss, making me bite my lip. I let my hands move across his chest and arms.

"I might just let you... You're making it hard for me not to let you."

"Does that trouble you?"

"Only a little. I like how I can turn you on like this."

"And it seems I can get a rise out of you, as well." He placed his lips on my neck and softly kissed me there. I let out a soft sigh as I felt myself getting even wetter.

"Bjorn..." He quickened his pace a little. I pulled his body down on mine, feeling his arousal through his pants. My eyes opened wide as I realized I wouldn't be able to stop if he kept on going. "Bjorn, I can't..." I swallowed, hard. He pulled back, worry lining his face again. "If you keep going I can't hold back for much longer." His expression went soft at my words. He lowered himself beside me and pulled me close, my back against his chest.

"I love it when you're so close to letting go."

"Don't make me turn around and change my mind," I warned him.

"Don't make me keep you to your word." I calmed down a little. Bjorn was starting to notice when I was not entirely honest with myself before I did. It had been a taunt, to try and see if I could get a rise out of him. A petty display of dominance, that was totally uncalled for. What I really wanted, what I needed, was already here. Two arms around me, the feeling I was protected, and knowing Bjorn wouldn't push me.

"I think we might be getting into new terrain," I said with a slight hint of fear in my voice.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I'm now a lot more comfortable with my body, and you being near me, to a point that I think is somewhat normal? Just because we don't give in to our urges doesn't mean we're almost there."

"Then why do you sound so serious?"

"Because it means we might come across things you won't like, as well. And I might push on your boundaries without meaning to."

"Do you worry that I can't tell you to stop if I don't like something?"

"I worry about pushing. And, well... You are a little inexperienced."

"I thought you didn't mind."

"I don't, that's not what I meant, it's just... This will be new for the both of us, and I don't want to make any mistakes. And I don't want that for you, either."

"So now you don't just worry for yourself, but for me, as well?"

"I... I guess so."

"Ragnhild, I'll be fine. It's not as if you'll scare me off when you push on a boundary once. I'm a man, I can speak up for myself. I can see you don't mean to hurt me, and if something is uncomfortable I'm mature enough to realize we're still getting to know each other." I snuggled in even closer, pulling his arms around me.

"You always say the right things."

"You let me know what's going on inside of you. You're basically telling me what you need when you do."


	60. Joy of Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 07-09-801

The next morning I woke up to the sound of Bjorn jacking off. I lay frozen, not knowing what to make of it. After last night I had felt the urge to masturbate as well, but to have it happen right behind me...

And still, I couldn't help but notice it was turning me on. I let a hand slide over my nightgown, realizing it had crawled up to my hips. That might have something to do with Bjorn's early morning session, if he'd woken up next to my bared hips. Aside from the gown, I wasn't wearing anything.

My hands slid over my bare skin, thinking how it must feel to Bjorn. So soft and smooth, and almost ready for him to touch whenever we wanted to. It was a promise, a prize at the end. It made me feel amazing. He was going through all this trouble to be with me, to get to know me. He wanted me. He desired me, he needed to know what it was like to be with me.

Dipping a finger in, I felt I was soaking wet. Bjorn's ragged breathing only increased, and I had to do my best not to start breathing too loud. For now, I just wanted to enjoy this by myself. I closed my eyes as I slowly circled around my clitoris, making my hips buck a little. I froze, wondering if Bjorn realized I was up. He had fallen silent as well.

I continued, not bothering to keep in my breath anymore. Letting out sigh after sigh, I worked myself over slowly, softly, until I could hear Bjorn had resumed as well. Knowing he knew, and knowing what he was doing only made it more intense. I hadn't been this aroused with another man present since... Before I got here. It didn't matter. It was all in the past, and my past couldn't reach me anymore. Bjorn was here, he was what mattered.

"Bjorn," I sighed softly, fantasizing about how he would pull my legs apart and start licking between my legs. I welcomed him in, feeling how his warm tongue lapped at my clit. A soft moan escaped my mouth. Behind me I could feel the furs shifting, and then a hand on my side, followed by lips on my neck.

"You dirty woman. You didn't even let me know you woke up."

"I couldn't help myself," I sighed. He ground his hips against mine, holding on tight to my hips. His fingers seemed to dig in as he heard me moan a little louder. He groaned in my ear, making me feel bold. I let my fingers slide up, towards his hand. He clutched my fingers as they touched. I guided his hand towards my mound. He held his breath as he realized I meant for him to go even further.

"You're wet," he whispered, trying to keep the arousal out of his voice.

"Very much. It all comes from here." I guided his fingers towards my vagina, getting them wet as I used them to circle the entrance. "And here," I whispered as I guided his hands up a bit, "this is the most ahh... Sensitive part of my body." Still guiding his fingers, I let him feel all around. Then I withdrew my fingers a bit and encouraged him to explore that part of my body. I started to writhe a little as he kept brushing past it in his explorations.

"Ahh... A little more pressu - ohh..." My hips bucked again, making me press up to his erection. His fingers circled around a bit, then returned to their target. I slung a hand around, moving through Bjorn's hair as I pressed my body against his.

"Ragnhild," he breathed, repositioning himself for easier access. "Can I..." His fingers teased at my entrance, wanting to dip in at my words.

"This first," I groaned, feeling my orgasm build. "I'm almost there..." He returned to my clit, increasing his rhythm and pressure. "Oh, fuck..." We'd had so many talks about how this worked for me, and for him, that I wasn't surprised to feel myself getting closer and closer to bliss. He fumbled around near the end as if he wasn't sure if I had finished already. The closer I got, the more intense my moans and writhing became. And then, all of a sudden, I was there. I felt my body relax, and spasm, and stretch all at the same time, a warm fire spreading through my limbs. I pulled Bjorn's fingers away and kissed them.

As the orgasm faded, I turned around, kissing Bjorn in wild abandon.

"I take it you liked it?" he asked with a lazy smile.

"Definitely." I kissed him again, and let my hand slowly reach down to his groin. Still, he gasped softly as I put my hand on his penis. "Just let me know if you want me to do anything different. You know what you like." I slowly started moving my hand up and down his dick, for the first time feeling the size of him. He let out a deep sigh, opening his eyes wide as he stared at me in wonder.

"A little tighter... Yeah, that's it." I did as he said and started to build a rhythm. "A little more..." I smiled and bit my lip as he closed his eyes. I kept on tugging and pulling, watching his face intently for any signs. As I moved my hand up a little, gripping him closer to the head, Bjorn let out a deep sigh, his lashes fluttering a bit. I pulled a little tighter still, making him pull me in for a kiss. It was hard to keep on going with my arm caught in this angle, so I pushed him off a little and continued. I skirted down a bit, cursing his length, and added my other hand to the fray, softly massaging his balls.

He was enjoying it so much he could barely utter a word. I kept going on what I could hear and see from his body language, teasing him closer to an orgasm of his own.

"Oh, gods, yes... Ahh..." He kept on moaning, and the closer I brought him to the brink of his orgasm, the louder he got. All of a sudden, his body went rigid, and I could feel his semen squirt against my arm. I waited for all of it to come out, then wiped my arm on my nightgown, trying to get as little as possible on the furs.

I took off the gown and threw it on the ground, much to Bjorn's surprise.

"Sorry for the mess." I crawled into his arms and kissed him.

"Don't worry about it." He pulled me close and put his head on mine, making me feel safe.

"You're amazing, you know that?" I chuckled, knowing he was in for one hell of a ride soon.

"It'll only get better from here, that I can promise."

"I don't believe you. Prove it." I groaned a little at his obvious taunt, but before I could retort he had put his lips on mine again. His hands started descending down my body again until they reached my mound.

"Eager to learn more?" I asked with a sly smile.

"With you as my teacher? Always." I grabbed hold of his hand and guided his fingers to my slit. I put my leg up a bit, so he had easier access, and I could see on his face Bjorn was eager to start.

"Now don't get too excited. Start off gently, and never force your way in if I'm not wet enough.

"But you're still wet."

"I'm not just teaching you how to satisfy me now, I want you to learn how to do it from start to finish. So first you kiss me..." He didn't need much help on that front anymore. He softly pushed me down on my back, letting his tongue speak for him. "Then you circle around my clit... Or you dip in carefully, to see if I'm ready... Just one, yeah, like that..." One of his fingertips softly dipped in, making me even hornier. I wanted him to plunge in, but both of us held back.

"I'd say you're ready."

"Then go in dee - ahh..." His index finger plunged in. I let him feel around for a bit, trying to stifle my moans.

"I can't wait to fuck you."

"Do you feel that ribbed area? That's where you want to focus on. You can pull your finger past it..." I felt his finger bend to take in the feel, making me contract the muscles down there. His eyes went wide a little.

"It feels that good?"

"Yeah..." He kept at it for a while, driving me nearly insane. "And you can thrust past it, that's basically fucking me with your finger." He slowly plunged in and out, making me writhe even more.

"What's that?" he asked as he touched the end.

"That's the entrance to my womb. It's not particularly sensitive, but it's nice to have a little variation when you're down there." Immediately he retracted his finger and started circling my clit, making my hips buck up. "Oh fuck," I breathed as I rested my head back. Bjorn kissed me as he kept switching between my clit and finger fucking me, making me moan. As he added a second finger I almost lost it. Bjorn was a large man, and his fingers were much broader than mine. I felt like he had filled me up already, but after a while, he added a third.

"It's getting a little tight," he whispered.

"Keep going... Don't you dare stop now." I gasped as he sped up, thrusting in his fingers as I closed my eyes and let the burning inside of me take me over. Just as I was about to come again, he switched gears and started rubbing my clit. "No, what are y... ohh..."

"Oh, sorry," he said, then switched again. I wanted to scream at him, but took a few deep breaths, instead.

"When I'm almost there, just stick to one." He continued slowly pumping in and out, rebuilding the rhythm. I was already so riled up it nearly killed me to have to feel my arousal slip away again like that. When Bjorn and I matched up again I let myself fall back on him, my body relaxing and enjoying his slowly lifting tempo.

"Are you mad at me?" he whispered as I took in a sharp breath.

"Why would I be - ohh... Mad at you?"

"Because I made you wait." He started kissing my skin, all the while plunging in and out.

"No... Ohh fuck, Bjorn..." I felt him smile through his kisses, as he kept getting me more wet and willing. He almost faltered again as his arm must have gotten a bit tired, but it was enough to make me come. I felt the familiar spasms run through my body as I licked my lips, letting out a deep, satisfied chuckle. Bjorn lay down next to me, his arm slung around my chest.

"I've never seen you enjoy something that much. It looks so... Pure." I put my hand on his arm, gripping it tight for just a second before I put a kiss on it.

"That’s the magic I was telling you about."

"I’m not sure if I understand this magic thing, but I could feel it. You’re amazing."

"No, you’re the amazing one. For being okay with waiting all this time." I kissed him, cutting off whatever it was he still wanted to say.


	61. Networking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-09-801

The markets were busy for this time of year, and merchants from all over Scandinavia seemed to have found us. Some familiar faces called out in glee, wanting to chat for a bit and ask me about the local news. I gladly obliged, interested to hear about the rest of the world as well. Some Frisians had dared the cross, much to my surprise. True merchants, they did their best to make themselves understood with some gesturing and loose nouns. And just like in the future, English turned out to be a common language.

"What is this I hear about earl Jorgenson?" a Danish fur trader asked me. "Ragnar does not welcome him to Paris?" I grew a bit wary, remembering the cautionary words Floki spoke after my encounter with Ulf.

"You already know the answer," I said, waving a hand as I went through his stacks. "Do you have any nice deer skins? I'm looking for something soft and supple, for a pair of gloves."

"In the back, I think. I could check for you..." The way he let his sentence trail off told me he wanted something from me in return. I gestured for him to lean in closer.

"Jorgenson stormed off before the feast even started." The merchant's eyes went wide with delight.

"Did he..." It was common knowledge with so many people around, but he seemed to appreciate the confirmation. Perhaps he was looking for better confirmation than the word of drunken Viking men. "And what was the reason for his dismissal?"

"You seem very curious..." Instantly he stood up straight, confirming my suspicions. He was here to gather information and wasn't used to getting caught. "I'm a little curious as well."

"Any news in particular that you're looking for?" With the current string of earls on their way and seeing where the merchant came from himself, it wasn't hard to pick a topic.

"Denmark, for example. I hear the harvest hasn't been that well this year."

"Ptah, the harvest is always disappointing there. King Horik doesn't know how to tell his people to just plant more and eat less of their supplies."

"Really? And what about earl Jorgenson? Has he been planting enough grain to make it through winter?"

"You tell me. Has he been rejected because he married Lagertha?"

"He seemed like a... Disruptive influence." The merchant's eyes lit up a bit, licking his lips and pursing them as he turned around to rummage through his wares. He pulled out a pliable and mostly intact deerskin, barely any blemishes on it.

"Surely a princess like you is used to only having the finest," he said with a generous smile. "No tempests will disrupt your harvests, like those of some in Denmark." I pulled out my pouch, but the merchant shook his head.

"I insist. Good conversation is worth a lot." His eyes went wide with delight.

"Then let me be the first to tell you king Horik has his eyes set for Paris, as well."

"That will be difficult, seeing he doesn't know how to get there by sea." I pressed the coin in his hands, keeping my thumb on top of it. "Or is it?"

"Who knows what the sea washed up his shore lately. Not all ships make it to port, and not all ships bring skins that you might fancy." He wanted our agreement to be exclusive. Only buy skins and information from him.

"And not all ports bring the business of the Lothbroks." I had to point out that the earl was, of course, a large buyer at the market, and he would not have to worry about not being able to sell any skins here. And, important information I might deem to leak out if his was up to par with mine.

"Then I think I will be sure to check on the harvests in Denmark." He wrapped his fingers around the coin and my hand, bending down slightly to kiss my knuckles. He had called me a princess, so it was only fitting to keep up his flattery now.

He packed up the skin for me and handed it over with a flourish. He turned around and inspected the coin for a bit, then turned to me with big eyes. I saw the greed in his eyes and knew he'd share all the titbits he knew from now on. He'd not brag about this, lest he lose my business.

"Do feel free to drop by if you are looking for good conversation again," I said with a slight nod of my head. He bowed down deep, very dramatically, then rose up with a giddy smile in his eyes.

He was the first of many. I continued over the market, asking about all corners of Scandinavia as I looked for my trusted herbs and spices stall.

"Birgritta," I smiled as I saw her. "Any more of that arrowroot?"

"Sorry, just sold out. I do have some new mint in, give it a try." She held out a leaf for me, and I rolled it around my fingers to get the smell out.

"Oh, I like this one. I'll take a small bush. It's really great stuff for tea."

"You mentioned that. I noticed Kattegat has become more likely to buy mint in large quantities."

"It's great when you mix it with a bit of lavender as well, ever heard of it?"

"I know of it, but it's too damn expensive to risk buying a whole batch before it goes bad."

"Birgitta, you know me. I'll pay triple the worth just to have some. If you ever come across some, please do think of me."

"You'll buy anything as long as it's from far off. Which reminds me..." She dove behind her stall for a bit, making me wonder what she was up to.

"I came across this weird stuff and haggled a bit off the vendor. Do you know what it is? It smells delicious." I took the strange powder in my hand and smelled it, then gingerly put a little in my mouth.

"Oregano," I decided. "Lovely when fresh, can survive just about anywhere as long as you keep it out of the wind and the rain. From the south of Francia, right? Perhaps even further."

"Do you think it'll take off here?" I shrugged.

"They're not one for taste here, but I know it goes well with lamb and chicken. I'd save it for another place, but I'm happy to take what you have in store."

"I'll throw in some other stuff as well, I can't sell it before the new season, anyway. At least you'll enjoy it."

"Really, that's not necessary."

"I insist. You've helped me out a bunch already. And you don't ever whine or complain like the others do. I have to keep my favorite customer happy, you know that."

"I can't say no to that, now can I?" I picked up all the pouches she handed me, and I gave her back some pouches that I'd emptied out recently.

"You even bring me back these, you're the only one to do that, you know?"

"Where I come from that's just good etiquette."

"Well, there's a reason you're the face I look forward to seeing again. And besides, it never hurts to have friends in high places..." She cast me a furtive glance, making me blush a bit. Every time she came past she was dying to hear how it all had developed between me and Bjorn since her last visit.

"That's no longer something to discuss by your stall, maybe you should come over for dinner tonight." Her eyes opened wide.

"Are - are you sure? I mean, I'm just a merchant, and you..."

"Would very much enjoy your company if you have the time. I trust you know where I live?" She nodded, still a bit star struck. "I'll see you tonight, then. Don't worry, it'll be fun. I'll try and see if I can whip something up with that oregano." She started nodding again, making me shake my head.

As I turned around to head for my next stop, I saw Ragnar approaching. His eyes caught mine as he kept walking, making me think he was heading for me.

"Ragnar," I said as he came to a halt in front of me.

"I was told I'd find you here. Walk with me, if you will." Curious, I followed him. He eyed the deerskin for a bit, touching it.

"Since when do you buy nice things for yourself?"

"It's not for me." At least, not all of it.

"Then I'm sure Bjorn will love whatever you'll give him." If only he knew... "He keeps on getting happier. As are you, I might add. What is going on between the two of you?"

"Only good things," I said as I thought back to the past few times we explored.

"I'm sure Jorgenson is off both your minds, then."

"Who?" Ragnar looked down in surprise, then chuckled as he saw me looking. I loved those corny jokes and how they were still fresh here.

"Your little stunt with that dress might have backfired a little. With so many men seeing your mark, I've been getting the strangest requests."

"Because of the mark, or because of the skin?" I had a feeling where this might lead.

"Both, of course. Some whispered that Freyja was there with you."

"And the others?"

"They want to know if they'll have a shot with you. Don't worry, I made it clear to them you're not interested. Bjorn is more than enough for you, I can see that. Though the rest of them doesn't seem to understand, I do."

"Is it something I don't understand, either?"

"Perhaps. I don't know if Bjorn ever told you, but as far as everyone is considered, both of you are still available for outside avances." I took in a deep breath. I hadn't known that. "Only when you live together it's a clear sign for others to back off."

"Where I come from it usually takes a few years before you move in with each other, or only after you get married."

"Really? That last part sounds... Christian."

"There are more religions that follow that custom, but it's not something you need to be religious for. The majority of people I knew didn't believe in any god at all." His eyes narrowed as he kept walking, seemingly going nowhere.

"Strange... Anyway, be wary of it. With winter approaching, the men always get a bit more handsy."

"And then in spring they'll feel their blood boil and it's even worse than before, and then they leave and come back even more riled up. Do you men ever not want to fuck?"

"We always keep on wanting more and more."

"More sons?" I almost shied away preemptively.

"Wanting and getting what you want are two different things. At any rate, thank you for helping Bjorn through the last few weeks. It was the right decision to let you tell him." Even I had to admit that by now. "Do you want sons? Or daughters?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I know you're different. It's best to ask about obvious things like these."

"Obvious because you assume every woman dreams of having a few hungry, whiny poop monsters?"

"Not if you put it like that..."

"You're wondering if I'd give Bjorn heirs. I will, in time. I'm only 25, I have plenty of fertile years left."

"You only have that long..."

"Oh, at least until I'm forty. I could start in five years and still get more children than you ever had."

"Really? Usually after thirty..."

"Things are different where I come from. Women bleed later in life, and we can carry children at a later age as well. I only started bleeding at seventeen."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yes, absolutely. Bjorn will not lack for children." Only after I spoke the words did I realize that would mean I'd spend the rest of my life with Bjorn. And I'd just assumed it. And I didn't feel weird saying it out loud.

"Well then, make sure you get in lots of practice with the boys. At least Sigurd is already calling you his mother."

"I really think we should put a stop to it. If Aslaug finds out, there’s no telling what she will do." A merchant called out to me. "Oh, just a sec, it seems my order came in." I made my way over to Draughir and exchanged pleasantries as he pulled out a parcel for me. I handed him what I still owed him and tucked it away in my bag.

"What did you get?"

"Something I've been denying myself my entire life, it seems. It's something nice for myself."

"From a leather worker? You know we have plenty of those here, right?"

"Yes, but they have only men to take measurements. Draughir's daughter was with him last time, so I made use of her services."

"Now I'm doubly curious."

"What a nasty feeling that must be." Ragnar sniffed a bit, almost a snort but not quite.

"Why would you want to prevent Aslaug from finding out?"

"Because it might either make her resent me or sink her claws into Ivar even deeper. She's bound to react, and I don't like any of the things I think to expect."

"I think having any kind of mother at all is best for Sigurd, at least for now. Don't forget that he needs your care, as well." Ragnar was right. It was worth it to go to war with Aslaug if it meant keeping Sigurd happy and less confused for the time being.

"Then I guess I'll see what happens."

"What's in the pack?"

"Nonof."

"What?"

"None of your business." He smirked at my rejection.

"I'm headed to the Seer from here on out. I don't take it you want to join all the way?"

"I'm still recovering from the last time, thank you very much. I'll see you around." Ragnar took his leave and left me giddy to get back home as fast as I could. I'd only have a few days to let Draughir make some final adjustments. Leather was very hard to get just right, and I was dying to finally wear the clothes I'd ordered two moons ago.

As soon as the door fell shut behind me I closed off the windows and got out the pack. The black leather looked rough in the fire of the hearth, but as I let my fingers slide over it, it felt soft as skin.

I got undressed and stepped inside the pants, letting them slide over my legs. It had been years since I had worn pants. The fabric felt tough as if it was still stiff and had to be broken in properly. But still, I finally had the black leather pants I'd been dreaming of for so long but never had the guts to go out and buy.

I felt guilty. I had never splurged on something like this, and pants were ridiculously expensive as it was. I was even embarrassed to admit I'd traded in a favor for a hefty discount, blessing Draughir’s daughter for a marriage proposal to soon come her way. I wasn't even sure if she'd get one soon, but Draughir had seemed pleased enough when I picked up my order.

I walked around a bit, sat down, stretched my legs, making the new leather creak a bit. And it was almost completely black. I was almost afraid to ask what kind of animal it had been taken from, but it seemed like Draughir had gone with bovine after all. Grass-puking sods.


	62. Sex Is Not The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-09-801

Bjorn helped pull my dress over my head, then stared at my chest. I hadn't worn a cloth to cover my breasts today.

"You know, it's impolite to stare."

"I thought something was different," he told my breasts before he kissed me. Not daring to touch them yet, he put his hands on my back and pulled me to his chest. The feel of his hands on my bare skin felt exciting and new. It was almost like he was the first to touch me, ever, while at the same time feeling so familiar I wanted more and more.

I felt his hands move to my hips. Feeling a bit riled up, I took hold of his hands and moved them up. Through the kissing I could hear his breath halting for a moment before he started caressing my breasts. Starting slow, he rubbed his thumbs over my nipples, which quickly hardened. I let out a soft moan as he pinched one.

Encouraged by my reaction, he softly pushed me back on the bed, resting on top of me. I broke off the kiss and bit my lip as he did it again, a bit harder now. When he found the perfect balance between pain and pleasure I threw back my head, moaning again.

"Yeah, that's it," I encouraged him. "Damn that feels good. With your mouth," I breathed. Bjorn put his lips to one of my breasts and licked at the nipple. As he softly bit down, a high-pitched yelp left my throat. My breath was growing more ragged, and I could feel Bjorn's erection through his pants. My hands slid down to grab his butt, but I couldn't reach it. Instead, I opted to pull at the hem of his shirt, trailing his bare skin as I moved his shirt upwards.

Leaning back on his knees, Bjorn took off his shirt, then went back to exploring what sounds I made as he touched, pinched, and licked my chest. I explored his, raveling in his muscular body. As much as I enjoyed his ministrations, I put a hand on his face, making him look up at me. I kissed him again, causing him to move up a bit. Now I could reach his butt and gave it a firm squeeze. In response, Bjorn ground his crotch against my thighs. He let out a grunt as I pushed back with my thigh, increasing the friction. This was quickly leading further and further. I wanted to slow down before it turned into sex but didn't feel like ignoring our arousal.

"Ragnhild," Bjorn breathed into my ear, "I want to fuck you." There were still a few things I wanted to do before it came to that, even though it took all my willpower not to relent.

"One day at a time." He couldn't get enough of touching my breasts, and giving in to his touch I let my approaching orgasm build. My moans became louder, more frequent. Bjorn knew better than to hold back, and getting a sense of how to proceed, he brought me to the edge. When I came, my body started shaking and twitching. The orgasm surged through my entire being.

As it slowly faded I laughed softly, licking my dry lips. Opening my eyes, I saw Bjorn look at me with inquisitive eyes. I crashed my lips into his, trying to convey my gratitude and praise. Pushing at one of his shoulders, he moved off me and sat down. I was hungry for more, far more. No Viking looking for treasure could ever hope to meet my greed. My nails dug into his neck as I straddled him, kissing him with a fiery passion.

He met my lust with his, letting his hands travel across my back, my hair, my breasts. I felt the need to feel him inside me, but a voice in the back of my head told me to not go there. I listened to it but moved off Bjorn and took off his breeches. My mouth found his muscular stomach, the V-line leading me down further, his thighs, and then, finally, his erect penis. When I kissed it, Bjorn's body tensed up for a second, then relaxed.

My hands and tongue joined the fray. It didn't take long for a bead of precum showed, and I lapped it up eagerly. Folding a thumb to the palm of my hand and squeezing it with my fingers, I took him into my mouth as my other hand moved over his shaft. With the sensation of my thumb distracting me, I could take almost all of him in. My head bobbed up and down, finding a rhythm.

Bjorn's moaning made me realize I was hungry for some more attention as well. I released my thumb, letting Bjorn contend with one hand and my tongue slipping and sliding across the tip of his dick. I moved up my underskirt and found myself dripping wet. Dipping two fingers in, my muffled moans formed a choir with Bjorn's and the sounds of me sucking him off. He managed to get hold of one of my breasts, softly pulling on the nipple. I almost lost focus, feeling the rhythm I'd build slipping away. My wet hand pushed him away. This was about me pleasuring him, not the other way around.

"Just relax and enjoy it," I said, taking the opportunity to swallow before heading back to what I was doing. As Bjorn sank down again his groans egged me on, increasing the tempo.

"Oh, fuck," he half whispered between groans. Briefly opening my eyes, I saw he was clutching the furs on the bed. He had pulled a pillow down to support his head, looking at what I was doing with lust-filled eyes. I switched to massaging my clitoris, trying to get my own arousal to the same point as Bjorn.

"I'm coming," he grunted. I stopped masturbating and focused all my attention on him, fondling his balls with my wet fingers. Taking him in deep again, I felt his cock go rigid. Soon I felt his seed squirt into my mouth. Bjorn let out a wild grunt as he came. It took some effort, but I managed to swallow the first wave, continuing my work as the rest of his cum came out. Convinced I'd swallowed all of it, I let go of him and wiped off my mouth. As I lay down beside him, he pulled me close. His ragged breath moved through my hair.

"That was amazing," he said, then turned to me and kissed me. I let him enjoy the orgasm that was still coursing through his being. As he came to, he rested on his side and put an arm around my chest, his head next to mine.

"Was it what you expected?" I asked with a smile. We'd gotten to this point a bit faster than I'd planned, but it felt right. The only thing bothering me was the arousal still coursing through my own body.

"Definitely. Though you look a bit heated."

"I'm still wet." A part of our conversations was about how we'd need to be honest with another about what we felt, even though admitting I was still horny made me a bit uncomfortable. "I want more."

"Well, I know just the thing to take care of that." His hand moved over my underskirt, pulling it up slowly.

"Bjorn," I said, trying feebly to protest. "Don't feel obligated. I don't want you to do it unless you want it."

"I want to know what you taste like." This was moving way faster than I'd thought. But as I searched my feelings, I knew holding back just to stick to a plan I'd made was nonsense. As Bjorn crawled down, he took hold of the underskirt and pulled it over my hips. Any doubt I felt about showing my body to Bjorn like this disappeared as his hands touched my skin. Almost reverently he kissed my stomach and thighs as I'd done to him. He was a quick study. Just the anticipation was enough to elicit a moan from me.

"Just relax and enjoy it," he said with a smirk. I wanted to swat at him, but his tongue had found its target. A hampered sigh came from my lips, my body sinking into relaxation. His arms wrapped around my thighs, holding my legs apart. I moaned as his tongue swirled around my clitoris, moving slowly and deliberate. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the pleasure it brought me. He had taken my words about slowly building up to heart and now applied them with a passion. I writhed around a little, giving in to every impulse rushing through my body.

He must have felt a bit cheeky, as he occasionally dipped his tongue into me. My high-pitched moans that followed made him try that much harder. As he increased his tempo my hips bucked upwards. Bjorn's grip on my thighs tightened, keeping me down on the furs.

I only looked up as he stopped, seeing he was moving into a more comfortable position. We locked eyes for a second. His mouth and chin were glistening, making me want to push him down and continue. An almost feral look took over his face, and Bjorn dove back between my legs.

He let go of one of my thighs and before I could wonder what he was doing, I felt a finger enter my vagina. Caught unaware, I yelped, bucking my hips again. This only continued as his teeth grazed across my clitoris, mixing a slight, most welcome hint of fear with the pleasure. When I stopped moving around so much with my hips he entered another finger, slowly thrusting into me. The feel of the tip of his tongue quickly racing over my clitoris made me climax. I moaned loudly, basking in the sensation, while at the same time wanting more.

If he had any trouble holding me down as I writhed and twitched, he didn't let it slow him down. As I came down from the high of my orgasm, Bjorn made it abundantly clear he wasn't done yet. He slipped in a third finger and increased the tempo with which he penetrated me. His tongue shifted back to a leisurely pace, and the contrast made me mad with lust. I buried my hands in my hair, in the fur, trying to find purchase but finding none. I was in free fall, and Bjorn decided how fast I fell.

Suddenly slowing down with his fingers, he once again targeted my clitoris with his tongue. My body started to shudder and despite my eyes being closed, I could feel them rolling up. My throat produced a steady stream of moans and grunts, only falling silent to draw more breath. He kept going, despite my orgasm.

As I recovered enough to open my eyes, Bjorn went all out with both his fingers and his tongue, pushing me to the brink so fast I barely noticed it. A third orgasm hit me unprepared, making me shake and moan and call out his name. Only as he lay down beside me did I notice he'd stopped.

With an arm propped up under his head, he watched me rolling on the waves of pleasure surging through me. He tried to touch me, but I recoiled from his touch. My body was in sensory overload, even the tickling feeling of the fur underneath me was too much. Only after a minute or so my body relaxed again.

"You're beautiful when you have an orgasm," he said with a soft smile. I put a hand on the back of his head and kissed him. I could still taste myself on his lips and in his mouth.

"You did amazing," I sighed as I let go of him.

"I had a great teacher."

"I told you a lot about it, but doing it is something different."

"You're easy to read. And your body is terribly sensitive," he said as he took hold of a nipple and rolled it between his finger. I bit my lip and smacked his hand away, still reeling from the intensity of my orgasms.

"Just hold me," I said as I buried my face in his chest. Bjorn wrapped his arms around me and pulled me a little closer. Lying together like that, naked and satisfied, I felt safe. In his arms, I found the happiness I'd been searching for all my life. With a satisfied sigh, I realized I had come to love my Viking.


	63. More Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-09-801

I only realized I had fallen asleep when I woke up with a start. Bjorn had dozed off as well, judging by the confused look on his face. The knocking on the door continued.

"Are you guys done yet? Ragnar wants to see you!" It sounded like Torstein. "He said it's important!"

"We'll be right out!" Bjorn shouted back. A blush took over my face as I realized what Torstein had said.

"You think he heard us?" I whispered.

"You're not exactly quiet."

"I may have underestimated how sound-proof your house is," I said, biting my lip.

"Don't do that," Bjorn said with a pained look. "The sight of you biting your lip makes me want to get back down there." I swatted at his chest.

"You're a dirty, dirty man." Like lightning he moved on top of me, holding my arms down on the bed. I wrapped my legs around his waist in retaliation.

"And you're the one who made me this way." He pressed his lips to mine, making me moan. As he broke off the kiss I bit his bottom lip, only slowly letting go of it. He let out a groan.

"Don't make me want to fuck you even more. We have to get up." Sighing, I let go of his legs so he could get off of me. Despite my urge to wash my whole body, I kept it short, then put my clothes back on, tracking down my underwear as Bjorn did the same. We kissed once more before we left. I could still smell myself on Bjorn, I realized with a sly grin.

"What do you think Ragnar wants to talk to us about?"

"I don't know. If he sent Torstein by multiple times it must be important." I wondered if it had anything to do with the game. Despite the winter coming upon us soon, messengers still regularly came for Ragnar, informing him of what news was out there and which earls and kings wanted to join him or requested him visiting them.

When we entered the hall, the few men there started banging their cups on the table, bearing big grins.

"Well, look who finally decided to crawl outside again," Rollo said.

"Took you long enough. You sure know how to please a woman," Torstein said, wiggling an eyebrow. Bjorn's ears turned a bit red, but I ignored them. Ragnar came walking towards us. When he put an arm around Bjorn, I could see his nostrils flaring a little, and I knew what he was smelling. With my stare, I dared him to say something about it. Some comebacks were already lining up in my head.

"Happy as I am to see you have found one another yet again, I have some serious matters to discuss. I got some very interesting news." He guided us towards a secluded table in the hall.

"Who is coming to visit?"

"The earl from Hedeby, named Kalf. He wants to join us when we go to Paris this summer. I heard some rumors he wants to be sure you are truly Freyja's vessel, though, before he will stand with us."

"That's next to Ribe," Bjorn said. Lagertha must have had something to do with it, causing Ragnar to take this more seriously than he would have otherwise. Ever since Jorgenson, Ragnar hadn't been this secretive about people coming over to visit.

"Which is how I found out so soon."

"You want me to dress up and play the part?" I thought back to how Jorgenson's visit had gone over.

"Yes. But I worry that might not be all he's planning."

"Do you think he wants to..."

"Don't kid yourself, son. You know men will always lust over her, just for what she is. But in this case, it might be something bigger." I felt a little uneasy hearing this. I put a hand on his forearm, stroking his skin with a thumb through his shirt.

"I can play the part, maybe get some information out of him. What is it you're after?"

"I just need him to confirm he's been in contact with Jarl Borg, and what his plans are. You won't have to be alone with him if he's serious about wanting to play me. He might consider you a pawn, but he doesn't seem to know you play yourself." Nor had I known Ragnar considered me to be a player in my own right. I felt more like a henchman than a player.

"Which means we can blind-side him. When will he be here?"

"Not for some time. If he makes it here before the snows start to melt I'll consider it soon." Which meant we could expect him about two moons after Yol.

"Is there anything else we should know?" I didn't like being caught unaware as these kinds of things went.

"Horik will no doubt soon send word to confirm he wants to join us to Paris as well. Last I heard, he didn't hold a grudge against Borg over that disputed land." Which meant he could easily be swayed to side with Kalf and Borg, should the wind blow him in their direction. Not to mention Horik wasn't exactly my biggest fan. I'd need to give it my all.

"Can't we find out what Kalf wants some other way?"

"It's up to Ragnhild," Ragnar said as he turned to me. "You might just get away with another dress, but Kalf isn't as easily fooled as Jorgenson. He's sure to come here well before Horik." I took hold of Bjorn's hand, taking in a deep breath.

"Hedeby has a large port, it'll take something valuable to dangle in front of him to get him to talk. And if he's sworn allegiance to Horik..." It would need to be one hell of a prize. Ragnar's eyes betrayed me that was the case. "I don't like it, but I'll consider it nonetheless. I know you need to find new allies, and soon."

"I thought that conversation was private," Ragnar told Bjorn.

"He didn't need to tell me. I can keep a count, and I know the rough estimate of what you need to even consider raiding Paris." Bjorn squeezed my hand as he wore a tiny smile on his face.

"Since when have you started to take this seriously?"

"For a while now. Bjorn, I promise I won't let him touch me."

"You can't make a promise like that just because you don't want to let him touch you. He might have very different plans."

"And who would dare touch the vessel of Freyja against her will? He'll lose his place in Valhalla, or so the rumor goes." Ragnar chuckled a bit.

"What's this? Are you starting to believe in it?"

"I might be using it to my advantage every now and then. There's plenty I have to do because of it, so why not have it work for me for a change?" Bjorn still felt uncomfortable about it, but in front of Ragnar was not the time to get into it.

"There's one more thing..." We both turned to Ragnar, who looked more than a little ominous as he looked us over. "Kalf means to propose to you if he finds you... Agreeable enough."

It felt like someone smashed my head in with a brick. I just sat there, frozen. Some complete stranger wanted to marry me because he believed I was the vessel of Freyja. Some turd thought there was a chance I'd say yes. That I'd marry him after maybe seeing him for a day. Maybe a week. And he'd share all he had with me and trust me to take care of his people when he was away killing people for their riches.

"Ragnhild?" This was completely ludicrous. I knew of arranged marriages, but this... Just pop the question, see if I'd take the bait. Like I'd ever do that. The fucking nerve on him. The massive fucking cojones. "Are you okay?" I looked up at Bjorn, still flabbergasted.

"You Viking are fucking insane. Absolutely fucking bat-shit crazy. Who the fuck does that?" Ragnar's eyes narrowed into slits.

"What language is that?" I snapped back to reality and cleared my throat.

"I don't know how to respond. Is this going to be a repeat of Arvid?"

"I can't exactly hold lands in Denmark without allies there. And I need his men to follow me if we're to have a chance at going to Paris."

"So what, you expect me to let him believe he can marry me?"

"No, I expect you to handle it in a way that he will still want to join us to Paris."

"But how is he going to believe that I -" I looked up at Bjorn. We hadn't even had sex yet, and Ragnar suggested I'd get engaged with a complete stranger just to fool an enemy into becoming an ally? No, there had to be some other way. I wasn't sure if Bjorn and I were strong enough to handle such a play.

"As I said, I'll leave it up to you. You told me to trust you once, and you didn't let me down then. I'm hoping I can count on you once more." Ragnar didn't trust a lot of people like that. Bjorn had told me that Ragnar was loath to trust anyone with such a heavy burden, and now he was asking me too much.

"We'll figure something out," Bjorn promised. He pulled me up and I followed him out, back to his house.

"How can anyone think it's normal to just propose to someone you haven't ever seen before?" I was still blown away by the news.

"It happens a lot more than you think. You really didn't expect it, did you?"

"No."

"I sometimes hear you mumbling in your sleep, and you speak some of the same words. What did you say?"

"I talk in my sleep?" He nodded. "Probably how this is all fucking insane. You know what I'm used to, as far as relationships go, and some dweeb wants to ask me to marry him after just one or two days?"

"Marrying for love is rare." I shook my head.

"Ragnar knew this was coming. The other day he was telling me all about how we'd need to move in together for us to be together like I feel we are right now, and then asked about whether I want to have children someday."

"He did?"

"He's worried I'm getting too old to have kids, soon." I rolled my eyes at Ragnar's obliviousness.

"Well... Is it?"

"Bjorn, no. I have plenty of fertile years left, you have nothing to worry about."

"How can you know?"

"I just do. It's one of the things from back home that is really hard to explain, but I promise you, I can give you more than enough children. Besides, you're only nineteen. There's plenty of time. We could wait for ten years and still have two or three." Bjorn let me go in first. I sat down at the table as I kept mulling it over in my head.

"Two or three?" He didn't seem satisfied with that number.

"Well, yeah. How many were you thinking of?"

"As many as possible." It wasn't uncommon for women here to have between five and eight children. That just seemed like overkill. How was I supposed to take care of that many without any help in the house?

"Like... four? Five?"

"Ten." I felt the breath leaving my body. "It's not like there's much we can do to prevent you from getting pregnant." Yes, there was. Even in this time and age. I'd made sure to ask around about that.

"Let's just take it easy for now. There are quite a few steps we're skipping before we should be having this kind of conversation."

"I think it is important to talk about it now." He put his hand on my leg. "I want us to be prepared, for what can happen when we have sex. Just being careful isn't always enough. Ubbe's living proof of that."

"Would you - if I'd be on board with it, or if it wouldn't matter to me... What do you want?" He sighed deeply, then took my hands into his.

"I'd ask you to marry me this second. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to bear me many children, I want to live in the same house as you for the rest of my life." I promised myself I wouldn't freak out hearing what I already thought I'd known, but I felt restless all the same. Lost in thought for a moment, I realized there was nothing to fear, not really. I'd thought the same not that long ago.


	64. First time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 24-09-801

A week of careful talks and avoiding what was really about to happen with Kalf's visit had passed when I invited Bjorn over for dinner, telling him I had something special in mind. Much to his surprise I had meant that literally, finally having had time to make pasta. As I put a plate in front of him he didn't know what to do. I sat down with a sly smile, daring him to ask me if it was edible. Swirling the strands around my fork and easily enjoying the meal, I enjoyed the taste I hadn't had for over two years.

"This is so good," I said with my mouth still half full. Bjorn was just poking at it with his fork, then tried a bite to be polite. His eyes opened wide with delight as he tasted it, a whole new world opening up to him. I had to cover my mouth with a hand to keep from laughing out loud with the pasta still in my mouth.

"What is this?" he asked between bites.

"It's a recipe from back home. I take it you like it?" He nodded, then swallowed. "It's called pasta, I'm not sure if there's a Norse word for it."

"I don't care what it's called. It's delicious." I was glad to hear it. We'd need the carbs for what I had planned for later tonight. A sly smile tried to force its way onto my face, but I bit my lip to keep it from showing.

"What is that?"

"Hmm?"

"That smile you're trying to hide. What are you thinking of?"

"Nothing," I tried to say, failing miserably at keeping a straight face. I stuffed some food in my mouth, suddenly very focused on my plate.

"Ragnhild. If you want to have sex, you can just say so." I should have known better than to try and hide it. He had become very quick on the uptake of such things, seeing through everything, and we'd done everything but have sex. He knew it was coming, with the speed at which things were moving along.

"I don't plan on having sex with you. I plan on making love to you, and that takes considerably longer. So I figured we might need a good meal first." Bjorn cocked an eyebrow, then started inhaling his food. Seeing a way to make him suffer just a little bit, I took my sweet time finishing mine. My grin turned devilish, relishing in the control Bjorn had to exert to keep him from grabbing hold of me and throwing me on the bed. His hands firmly gripped the table, waiting to pounce.

"If you plan on being this excited already, you won't last long enough for all the things I have in mind," I said as I looked at him from behind my cup. He calmed down a bit, but the anxiety in his eyes remained. It would be his first time having sex, and I had a mind to make it an unforgettable experience.

As I swallowed the last bite, and drank down the last of my ale, Bjorn was ready to get up, but I told him to sit down.

"At least let me prepare this one little surprise. It took me some time to get it ready." I had been working on it ever since I had started working on my network of informants. I moved to stand behind him, and he wanted to turn around to be able to see me. "No peeking. Good things come to those who wait." As he turned around I took off my dress. Underneath was underwear as close to lingerie I had managed to make, made from the soft deerskin I'd gotten at the market. My breasts were kept up by a piece of deerskin that hung across a single shoulder, and instead of panties, I wore a very, very short skirt that barely covered anything. I crawled up my bed and assumed a sexy position, then took a deep breath.

"I'm ready," I said in a husky voice. Bjorn turned around and took in the sight of me. I'd told him of how women seduced men in my time, and he'd gotten a very naughty twinkle in his eye at the thought of me dressed in barely anything. I saw him gulp, nerves trying to take over. He kicked off his boots and stripped, the sight of him fully naked and hard for me turning me on.

Like a predator he approached, deciding on the best way to attack me. He crouched on the bed, closing in on me. On his knees, he let his hands glide over my body, slowly working his way up. His hands slid over the mini skirt, and my breasts, instead feasting on my mouth. I matched his enthusiasm, letting him set the pace for now. His lips sank down to my neck, my collarbone, then moved up to my earlobe. I melted underneath him, noticing he was grinning as his lips found mine again.

I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to pull him closer. Holding back, I just let my nails scrape his skin. A soft moan escaped his mouth as he straddled me and pulled me up a little, admiring the work I'd put into the top.

"You went through all this trouble for me?"

"This old thing?" I raveled in all the clichés I could use to my heart's content as Bjorn enjoyed the feel of the soft deerskin that barely hid my breasts.

"I can't say it enough. You're amazing."

"You deserve it." He kissed me again as his hands went over the skin, feeling every inch of it before he started peeling it away. My hips pushed into his crotch as he tended to my nipples, already hard from the tension.

I missed his gentle caressing as he slid down to my thighs and did the same to the skirt. He knew just what was hidden there, but he took his time anyway, stroking the fur that covered my mound and behind.

Bjorn was just as eager as me as he moved down and removed the skirt, letting his fingers linger on the skin he revealed.

I spread my legs to grant him access, wanting to feel him inside me for the first time. I bit my lip in anticipation, preparing. He fumbled a bit to get into position, but as he entered me I took a sharp breath. My back arched in delight, having missed this feeling for so long. As he tried to find a rhythm, I wrapped my arms around him again. He kissed me, trying to hide his insecurity. I let him, breathing heavily from the friction between my legs.

Bjorn found a rhythm and grew more confident as he heard me moan. I joined in with my hips, wanting to feel all of him. He groaned as his cock filled me deeper, quickening the pace. We lost the rhythm for a second, but Bjorn bounced back. I threw back my head, relishing in what my body felt. Without realizing I did it I contracted my pelvic muscles, making the penetrations more intense. Bjorn let out a guttural groan and came inside me.

He rolled off me, and I knew he felt embarrassed for coming so soon. I turned to face him and put a leg over his.

"Don't feel bad. You know it takes time to build up stamina." Bjorn wrapped an arm around me.

"I just wanted you to finish as well."

"You know tonight is about you. And it'll be night for quite some time." Bjorn kissed me on my forehead, then let out a deep sigh. I trailed patterns on his chest with my fingers.

"How come you're so relaxed about it?"

"I told you, I'm in this for the long haul. Were you able to beat Ragnar when you first picked up a sword?" I saw doubt in his face, he was drenched in it. "It's something we get better at, together."

"I feel like I have a lot to make up for."

"Are you worried because I have more experience? I told you, I don't care about that. With you, I feel nervous at times as well."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"It's really normal to feel nervous about this kind of thing. To me, it means we both want the other to enjoy it as much as ourselves. It's about more than just sex. It's about wanting to share something beautiful with each other, wanting to have fun, and share an intimate moment. If I wanted a quick lay, I wouldn't be here with you. I knew I'd have to teach you a lot, and here we are. You know how to satisfy me, and I know you're a generous lover. I couldn't ask for more." Bjorn pulled me closer, stroking my hair. "I love you." Three words, and such a large meaning. The stroking stopped, I figured I had caught Bjorn unaware with my declaration. "I love you for taking care of me, for being so patient, for being there for me." He stared at me as if he didn't believe what I'd just said.

I should have picked a better time to tell him. He must have thought I said it just to make him feel better, but it wasn't like that. He needed to know that, I really meant it. I loved him, and now I finally had the balls to say it to his face.

"I thought I'd have to wait at least a year to hear you say that," Bjorn finally said. "You're a mystery to me, you know that? You can feel so strongly about things I never thought about, going exactly the opposite direction from all of us. You have this weird way of looking at the world. Sometimes it makes no sense at all, you just follow your own path and go with your gut, and then you go and say something like that when I don't expect it, and it makes so much sense." Despite the nerves, I had to smile. Looking at me from his eyes must have been quite the sight, with my modern-day ethics and morals, and on the other hand learning to accept his way of life. "And it makes me love you even more." He loved me, too. He understood, he felt the same.

We started kissing again, soft, and slow, and loving. His hands drifted across my body, finding every inch of skin he could reach. I held my breath as he fondled my breasts, releasing a whimpering sigh as he took a nipple in his mouth and bit down softly. My loins were on fire again, aching for Bjorn to fill me once more. He must have read it on my face as he got up a bit and kept tugging and biting and licking my breasts, while one hand drifted further south. As his fingers found my clitoris I let out a long, slow moan, biting my lip.

Bjorn paused the licking and biting to kiss me.

"I love that look on your face," he whispered. I could only whimper as his fingers kept pleasuring me. In the past weeks we had spent a lot of time practicing and exploring, and now Bjorn felt confident enough in his skills to know how to get me to writhe underneath him. As his fingers slowed down a bit I tried to move against them with my hips, but he wouldn't let me come. I grew frustrated, wanting to climax. I sat up, wanting to pull him into a kiss, but he didn't answer the begging of my lips. Then it hit me. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Bjorn," I moaned, the edge disappearing. I wanted to go back there, wanted to fall into bliss. "What are you doing?" His fingers started moving again, terribly slow and deliberate.

"I want to see how long you can wear that expression. It's intoxicating." I hadn't expected him to enjoy the measure of control he had over my body this soon. Other lovers had raveled in this as well, but usually took more time to admit it. I tried to move against the fingers circling my clitoris, but as soon as I moved, he pulled away. The lust I felt was starting to get maddening. I tried to kiss him again, but now he wouldn't even let me get close. I tried to pull him in, but he wouldn't budge. I tried to help myself to an orgasm, but he grabbed my hands and held them over my head. I tried rubbing my legs together, but he put a knee between my legs.

Even though Bjorn didn't know it yet, he wanted to hear me beg for it. He wanted me to admit I wanted him to give me an orgasm, he wanted to control that piece of me. He needed to know that our difference in experience meant nothing when he could make me want him this bad. It turned me on even more.

"Bjorn, please..." A finger brushed over my folds, eliciting a writhing motion from my body. His mouth sank down to my breasts again, getting me closer to the edge once more. With half-closed eyes I groaned, hoping he wouldn't stop touching me. My body spasmed shortly as I was on the brink, but Bjorn wasn't satisfied yet. "Bjorn..." With one hand still pinning my hands above my head and now two knees between my legs, I took in a sharp breath as I felt his hard cock against my folds again. He was teasing me, knowing just how much it would take to let me drift off the edge again. He hadn't been as clumsy at this as I'd thought. Over the past weeks, he'd been experimenting with my limits, pinpointing how much it would take to make me come.

"Do you want to come?" he asked me. He brushed the side of my clitoris, making me push up my hips against his. My body was already begging for release.

"Yes," I whispered. Bjorn still held off. The anticipation was almost hurting me.

"How badly do you want it?" I bit my lip, not prepared for such questions at this time. "What do you want me to do?" His own breath was growing ragged, too. Something snapped inside of me, and now I found it hard to shut up again.

"Please fuck me, Bjorn. I want to come so badly. Please, I beg you." Bjorn found my entrance and had no trouble filling me to the hilt. I was so wet and slick, him entering me must have caused the furs underneath us to soak through. I moaned every time he pushed into me. "Oh Bjorn, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, fuck me harder." He barely needed the encouragement. The grip on my hands tightened as Bjorn's groans grew louder. "Oh, fuck me... Bjorn, keep fucking me." His pace sped up, to the point I could only moan and groan and grunt. My eyes rolled back, I felt myself climax. My body wanted to wriggle and twitch, but Bjorn's grip and body so close to mine meant I just pushed against him. I moaned into his ear, and I could feel his dick reacting to it.

Before my orgasm had gone completely I pulled down my hands, releasing them from Bjorn's grip. Pushing a bit against his shoulder, he stopped but stayed inside of me. Having room to move a little now, I pulled up my left leg and put it against his shoulder. Bjorn started to thrust again, his eyes going wide for a second, then showing pure pleasure as his thrusts went in even deeper.

"Ragnhild," he choked out through his grunts. "I fucking love you. I love fucking you."

"Then keep going," I moaned. I wanted to squeeze every bit of pleasure I could out of this. Contracting my pelvic muscles again elicited a deep, feral groan from Bjorn's lips. Still so close to my first orgasm, I had no trouble reaching the edge again, falling into bliss a second time. My entire body seemed to contract, eyes shut tightly as I felt the release slowly relaxing every muscle in me. Bjorn let out a grunt that slowly died down to a moan. He let his body fall on top of me, releasing my leg from his shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him, a hand moving through his short hair.

"That thing," he said, then cleared his throat. "That thing with your leg... That was amazing."

"That's just the beginning." He pressed his lips to mine, still high from his orgasm. I felt his sperm gushing out as he withdrew and moved to lay beside me. "What you did at the beginning, with not letting me come? I never told you about it. Why did you do it?"

"It's err..." I gazed up at him, seeing him get a little uncomfortable. "Sometimes you get this look in your eyes and this blush on your face... Like I'm the only one who can make you feel that good. And it drives me insane. I love seeing you like that. It makes me feel..."

"In control." Bjorn looked away embarrassed. "I loved it. I was a bit surprised you even thought of it." He got back his confidence and turned to lie on his side, laying his arm over my stomach.

"I've had to be patient for so long. And I don't regret it, but I wanted to make you wait for me, if only a bit. You really liked it that much?" Now it was my turn to look a bit embarrassed.

"There's a lot more to sex than just penetration. There's love, intimacy, pleasure. Those are the things I've told you about. But it's so much more. There's trust, safety, surrender, control... We've only just started."

"And you'll show me?"

"As much as you want. As much as we both feel comfortable with. There are so many positions, things to try, we could spend a lifetime in bed and still surprise each other after all that time."

"Now you're making me nervous."

"Don't be. Or at the least, be honest about it. Honesty's a big part of trust, as well as getting to know each other's boundaries. What we did tonight, it's only possible to feel that good if there's trust from both sides." I kissed Bjorn on the cheek and got up, cleaning off his sperm from my legs.

"I'm surprised I managed to last so long the second time," he said as he got under the covers.

"That's actually not surprising at all. The worst of the tension was gone, and your body needed some time to recover for a bit. If anything, I was surprised you got hard again so fast." I crawled up next to Bjorn again, finding a perfect fit for my body in his arms.

"Well, with you looking all hot and bothered like that, what else was there to do? Just thinking about what could come next, I want to fuck you again." I chuckled at that.

"We can start on that tomorrow. Let's get some sleep, first." We took forever kissing each other goodnight, until I couldn't suppress a yawn. With our bodies entangled, faces just inches apart, I fell asleep.


	65. Animal Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-10-801

Horik's arrival was one of great celebration. I vehemently didn't want to attend, but I had to. I couldn't very well call in sick, or just stay away. I'd have to meet him eventually, and I'd rather have it over with. This time I was armed with knowledge, though. Birgritta had come by, as had some other traders I'd lured into my network. I knew what to expect, and what to look out for.

Horik greeted Ragnar friendly enough, but as he caught sight of me he froze for the barest hint of a second.

"Ragnhild. How lovely to see you again." Even a deaf person would be able to note the sarcasm in that comment.

"King Horik, it's an honor, as always." He marched past me then, and he didn't want to look at me again. Bjorn kept close as we followed Ragnar to the hall.

"He didn't bring his son," Bjorn whispered.

"Horik didn't want me talking to him, he left him back."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do." He shot me a wary look, but I ignored it. I was allowed to keep a few secrets, even from Bjorn. We all got into the hall and sat down in what seemed to be a typical low-key setting, horn of ale in hand, close to the fire roaring inside.

"Ragnar, how have you been?" Horik sat with his back to me, making it very clear what he thought of me.

"I gained a new son, and some new allies to join us south."

"Very well. Where's the lad?"

"Asleep, in the back." Ivar was out with Aslaug, but Ragnar didn't want it known Ivar was deformed just yet. Having that out in the open could very well mean he was seen as weak and lose allies. There had been plenty of inquiries as the rumors had started, but I had refused to acknowledge them. By now, the local traders had learned the value of being loyal to me, and the benefit that came with silence towards other curious people, going as far as to lie about the rumors that they spread to other ports.

There were plenty of reasons for me not to go as far as I went to make sure the knowledge I bought was right and exclusive, but as it happened, a lot of people that came to me for advice left all kinds of goods behind, like sausages, and cheese. Aside from the occasional clothes and skins I barely had any costs, and that meant I could keep expanding my business ventures. And as word spread that Kattegat was the place to be, I found myself taking longer and longer to finish my usual round there.

"You gain a son, I lost one. That seems like an unfair trade," Horik said.

"I'm sure Ari is doing fine, wherever he is. I'm a little surprised you didn't bring your other son, though..."

"Erlendur grew ill the day before we left. I'm sure he'll join us in Paris. When do we leave?" Horik knew that it depended on when the snows would melt. He might have meant it as a way to get Ragnar to hurry up the expedition for some reason, but it made him look dumb. Still, I was curious as well. Bjorn would be gone for a long time next summer, and I needed to prepare for that in my own way.

"After the harvest is sown, to be sure. We don't want to risk the last winter storms, and we'll need every man available."

"I suppose that's the smart play... In that case, I'll send word back home to aim around the end of March. I'll see if I can round up some more men if we'll leave a tad late." Why the hurry... Something seemed off. He made it seem like Denmark didn't have to plant any new crops at all.

"We're close to a satisfying number. A hundred and fifty ships in total, so far." A gross overrepresentation, as most boats would be half-filled by that count. Bjorn had confirmed my suspicion that they would need about 3000 men, and I knew we were about 2000 strong. That may have been enough to take the city, but we needed more men to make for an easier battle, if we didn't want to bury more men than would come back home.

"Will your sons join us?"

"Bjorn will, Ubbe is still too small." Horik turned his head towards me slowly but didn't deem to look me in the eye. "Aside from Bjorn, you'll know Floki and Thorfan, as well as Torstein. Not to mention my brother." Having left me out of the row of names, Ragnar's words eased Horik's mind. A lot.

"Good, they are trusted men who will be sure to help us to victory." Implying I wasn't. I just kept smiling pleasantly, pretending not to be scorned the way I was. This wasn't my battle to fight.

"Ragnhild!" I looked up and saw Hvitserk running towards me. "Piggy is bleeding!" He looked close to panic. I got up and met him halfway, sinking to my knees to look him in the eye.

"What happened?"

"There's so much blood! Come on, quickly!" I glanced back, seeing Horik wore a pleasant smile as he sipped his ale. As Hvitserk dragged me out of the hall I was glad to be out of there, but a little embarrassed I'd let myself get distracted that easily. At the least, it would be easier for Ragnar and Bjorn to talk to Horik without me there. I let Hvitserk drag me along and as we reached the goat pen, I immediately saw what had happened. Piggy had been in the middle of giving birth, but she had been viciously attacked by something. Her backside was torn into by something savage.

"I don't want Piggy to die," he pleaded, close to tears.

"I'll do what I can." I got to my knees and felt for signs of life, but Piggy was dead. She was still warm, though. Maybe... Just maybe...

"Hvitserk, I want you to go get one of my knives, okay? My bag is in the back. It doesn't matter which one you bring. Go as fast as you can, but don't run with the knife in your hand." Off he was, letting the wooden gate clatter shut as he went. I felt for any kind of movement inside her belly, but it felt rigid. Piggy had not died a pleasant death. Happy and Floki wanting to see what was going on wasn't helping much. I pushed them away as I tried to get an idea of what I was dealing with. Even as I put my hand inside her mangled birth canal and stroked across her torn belly, it was hard to notice anything.

"Why do you need a knife?" I heard Bjorn say. Hvitserk had really run fast.

"The mother died, but I might be able to save the babies." I held my hand back without looking back, and Bjorn put the knife in there. "Is Hvitserk watching?"

"He's with father crying his eyes out. He said something about a pig?" I shoved the knife in Piggy's midriff, then cut her open.

"Piggy, he named the goat. Don't ask." Her intestines came gushing out as she lay on her side. I felt my way into Piggy's abdomen to try and find her uterus. It proved to be more difficult than I thought, I had no idea what I was hoping to find.

"What even happened?"

"I think a dog got a little excited at the smell of that much blood. Her hind side is completely chewed."

"What dog was it?" If one of them had turned vicious, it would have to be put down... I didn't have time to linger on it.

"I don't know, I didn't see it. Maybe Hvitserk knows." I felt the uterus, but there was hardly any room. If I'd try to cut through to get to them, I'd risk hurting the babies. But it was better than letting all of them die.

"Freyr, forgive me." I took hold of the torn fur and skin, and tore through the fur and flesh even further, using the knife when I couldn't get it to part with my hands. The babies weren't moving all that much, and I risked cutting through the outside of the womb enough for me to get a few fingers in, tearing the uterus open. A birth sack slid out, revealing a tiny, slightly thrashing goat inside. I wasted no time tearing the sack and cleaning off its nose, then dove in to see if there was another one.

There were four goats in all, each one of them tiny. Piggy barely had any milk, and with her udder mostly torn to shreds, it wasn't a good idea to have the goats latch onto her. Irish and Tweety were used for their milk, and with a little trouble, I got them to accept the new additions to the pen.

"You're pretty good with them," Bjorn remarked as he kept Irish in place to let two of them feed.

"Hvitserk can't see this. We'll have to take care of the body, first."

"By which you mean, 'Bjorn, can you please take care of the carcass I pulled apart with my bare hands?'" My eyes flashed hot in anger until I saw admiration in his.

"I was afraid to hurt the babies," I said, starting to blush at his praise. The knife still laid between the goats, bloody and slimy.

"I kind of like this bloody look on you." My arms were covered in blood and dirt, as was my dress from my knees down. I'd have to get a bath after this.

"Really? I just feel dirty." I jerked back Irish as she tried to walk away from two of the baby goats. "Not that kind of dirty," I mumbled as I caught him staring.

"Seeing you like this, it reminds me of that time Ubbe almost died. You didn't even have time to think, and you just acted without hesitation."

"Well, are you going to get rid of that carcass?"

"I'm not really looking forward to it. Let's take these four inside to show Hvitserk, I'll get a slave to butcher it." I had my thoughts about that, but I knew I couldn't say much about it. The servants weren't mine, and I had little say over what others told them to do. Bjorn already picked up the two babies that had fed off Tweety, and I followed suit. As he'd said, he sent the first slave he came across to take care of the body before Hvitserk would see.

"Little brother?" Bjorn called out from across the hall. "We have a surprise for you." His tiny head poked out from his father’s lap, wiping away the tears. Ragnar looked none too pleased to have been interrupted with such a menial happenstance.

"Is Piggy okay?"

"She died." I looked up at Bjorn, surprised he'd just throw it out there. Hvitserk started to pout again, but Ragnar made him buck up his chin.

"Then what's the surprise?" Ragnar asked, seeing the four goats in our arms.

"Baby goats!" Hvitserk called out, clamoring to get out of Ragnar's lap. "Four new Piggies!"

"We can't name all of them Piggy, that'll just be confusing." I caught Ragnar looking, and handed one of the goats to Hvitserk, then guided him to the back.

"It seems she still doesn't know how to behave properly," I heard Horik state rather loudly. Hvitserk wanted to turn around, but I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him further to the back with us.

"He's lying," Hvitserk muttered as he first put the goat down on his parent's bed, then climbed up himself.

"He's just a little upset with me, you don't have to worry about him."

"But he's a king..."

"And I'm Ragnhild." Bjorn scoffed as he watched me pick up some cloths to rub the goats dry.

"And I'm Hvitserk," he proudly said. "But I don't like what he said."

"You'll have to get used to that," Bjorn said as he took a towel and started rubbing one of the goats dry. "People will say a lot of things to try and hurt us." Judging by his face, Hvitserk didn't understand.

"But that's mean..."

"It's just how the world works. People are jealous of what we have, and they try to hurt us so they can take it for themselves." I kept silent as I rubbed off the tiny goats, trying to keep a calm face. In my mind, a storm was raging. I didn't know if I'd want people like Horik in my life all the time. And if Bjorn was to become earl himself, it would only get worse.

"Did Piggy go to Valhalla?" I glanced at Bjorn, who didn't know what to say, either.

"Well, she wasn't sacrificed, so I don't think she'll make it to Valhalla." I just knew he was pouting, and I couldn't take it. "But who knows, they might have a special meadow for all the goats. I bet Toothgrinder and Toothgnasher keep watch over them when they're not traveling with Thor." I could hear Bjorn rolling his eyes.

"Do they have enough room to play there?"

"Oh, definitely. They've got all kinds of toys, and things to jump on, and grass to eat, and walls to jump up to..."

"That sounds nice."

"What do you want to call the goats?" Bjorn asked. At least that part he could accept without complaint.

"I don't know..." Hvitserk let go of me and sat down, scratching the goat in my arms between his horns. "Ragnhild always has the best names."

"How about... Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey, and Sneezy? Just like the dwarves from Snow White. That's where I got Happy's name from."

"I guess so..." Hvitserk was still lamenting over Piggy, which I could fully understand. It had taken me a week to get past losing Lucky, and I still felt sad about that from time to time. The goat in my arms jumped off as I let him go and was immediately replaced with Hvitserk.

"It's okay, little man. These kinds of things just happen. And you can be sad about it. That's okay, too." He leaned into me, resting his head against my chest. I lightly put my arm around him, using the other to get a hold of one of the loose goats to keep it close. Hvitserk petted the soft, fluffy thing absent-mindedly.

"Did she die because she was pregnant?"

"Yes. That sometimes happens. It can be dangerous to give birth."

"Like mother almost died?"

"Yes, like that. Sometimes something goes wrong, and there's not really something you can do about it."

"Are you going to die, too?"

"Not for a very long time, if I have anything to say about it." He snuggled up a bit more, and I swayed with him in my arms for a bit.

"You're coddling him," Bjorn said.

"I'm comforting him."

"If you say so..." He got up and threw the dirty cloths in a corner. "I'll take the goats back outside. They're tracking dirt everywhere." He scooped up all four goats and walked off.

"Is Bjorn mad at you?"

"No, we just disagree sometimes. People do that. Do you want to go outside for a bit?"

"No." I held him close for a little while longer, letting him mourn the loss of his friend.


	66. Ragnhild's Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-10-801

By the time we got to my house, I invited Bjorn inside for a drink. He gladly took me up on it, and soon we were sitting at a make-shift table that I had fashioned from a few scraps of wood. So far, I had been more concerned with decorations to make it feel like a home than furniture, thinking it was more important I felt like I was home. Bjorn had made no comment on it, accepting my weird quirks as part of who I was. When I accidentally hit the table with a foot, it came crashing down.

"Oh, shit." The mugs had spilled all over the floor. I felt the need to mop up the spilled fluid, but it wouldn't make any difference. The mead was immediately soaked up by the packed dirt floor. I'd have to shovel out a bit of the floor and fill in the hole to prevent it from stinking up the house. "I'm sorry, I'll get you a new one." I made to grab the mugs off the floor, but he stopped me.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get it." I gave him a tired smile, not knowing how else to react. I turned my attention to my table, which seemed to be beyond repair this time. I'd have to find some piece of wood to replace the leg that had fallen off.

"Why are you trying to salvage it? You could just get a new one," Bjorn said as he handed me a fresh mug.

"Because I don't have the money for it. So far I spent all of it on warm clothes and things to make this place feel like my own." And my trader network was costing quite a bit to keep up, as well.

"I can understand that, but wouldn't it make your life easier if you at least got some decent furniture? It doesn't have to be expensive."

"I have more important things to worry about, like staying warm when I'm outside. I'd love a new table or proper seats, but not freezing to death is kind of neat as well."

"I could make you one." My face scrunched up.

"I don't like taking gifts from others. You know that. There tend to be strings involved."

"Strings? What strings? Why would I make you a table with strings?" Bjorn could be so sweet when he was confused.

"Every time I got a gift, the person who gave it to me expected me to do something in return."

"But then it's not a gift. Are you afraid I'll ask for something in return?" I bit my lip, not sure if I wanted to answer.

"I... It's what I'm used to. If a dog keeps barking when you walk past, wouldn't you know it'd bark next time you see it?"

"Are you calling me a dog?" I felt like Bjorn thought I was using too many metaphors, and this was his way of making me say what was really bothering me.

"No, that's not what I meant... I'm not used to getting things and not having to return the favor at one point."

"Then it's something you need to learn. I've had nothing to do for some time now, I can't exactly go outside and train with all the snow lying around. I'd be happy to. You'd give me a gift as well." I didn't know what to make of his words, but remembering this was a different world with different customs, I reluctantly agreed.

"Great, I'll visit Floki tomorrow. He'll lend me some tools."

"Speaking of tools, what do you think of that whole thing with Kalf?" If Bjorn was unfamiliar with my use of the word tool in this context, he didn't let on. Maybe he knew better than to keep on asking me about all the expressions I used when they didn't refer to my feelings.

"You want to know about him, don't you?"

"I'm not as direct as all of you are. I need to feel like it's the right time to talk about something like that." Bjorn sighed.

"Well, at least you got me to offer to make you a table out of it. What do you want to know?"

"How do you feel about it?" I didn't even know what it was. Had I agreed to pretend to like him, or was there a whole fake engagement as I'd thought when I first heard about it?

"I hate it. I don't want to put you in danger. Who knows what he'll do? And I don't like the idea of you having sex with someone else. At all." I frowned at his exaggeration.

"From what I gathered, I just need to flirt with him a little, give him the impression I'd be willing. I can keep him off until Ragnar's plan unfolds, and I won't have to do anything I'd rather not." Bjorn seemed to relax a bit at that but still looked troubled. To him, it must have sounded like a fairly well-established boundary.

"Why would you even take the risk?"

"Well... Before I came here, I... I got here and I thought I could have a second chance at being happy." I glanced up at Bjorn, but his face didn't betray anything. "As I learned the language and got used to life here, I... I want to be a part of it. And though I might not be comfortable with it, if it means I get to stay here, with you..."

"I know all that, we've talked about it plenty. What you don't seem to realize is that you don't have to do this so you can stay here."

"But I need to do this to stay with you. If you're to become the earl, you'll need a strong wife to help you. I know what kinds of things are expected. I know what needs to be done." My mind wandered to Siggy. She had tried to explain why she did what she did with King Horik when I had found out, but I didn't know what to make of it. At least now I understood why Ragnar didn't trust her and seemed reluctant to trust Rollo, still.

"Barely half a year ago you didn't want to be touched. You still can't accept a gift without thinking someone wants to take advantage of you. I just can't understand why you would agree to this. The way I know you, it's just so many steps at the same time."

"I don't even think I understand it myself. But I feel like I have to do it. Playing on a man as they used to play on me...I think it'll help me to move past it. And I still feel like I owe Ragnar, and if I can help him, I will do so. I owe him my life. This life, with you in it."

"You are a free woman, and you can make up your own mind. I don't have anything to say about it. We're not... together, as other Viking would be."

"Are you saying you'd be opposed if we were together like that?" Bjorn put his mug down on the floor and knelt before me, looking up at me for a change.

"Woman, I'd tie you to the bed if that would prevent you from doing something like that. I worry you'd fall back into whatever it was you fell into that time. But still... I know you wouldn't do it to hurt me. The opposite in fact. But I hate the thought of another man touching you. I want to keep you all to myself. And yet, I know doing that would only drive you away." I felt for Bjorn. He was caught between his love for me, his need to keep me close, and his father's needs. I hated myself for putting him in such a position. At the same time, I felt like this was some sort of exposure therapy for me. It would prove to me I was over it as much as I needed to be. And it showed me how much Bjorn wanted me to make my own decisions, no matter how strange they were. He really loved me, and understood me.

"You'd really let me do it?"

"I might not agree, but I can't stop you from making your own choice. I just want you to make it for the right reasons. I don't want you to do it because you feel like you have something to prove. My father trusts you can make a decision about this on your own, so don't do it just to please him." My resolve to go through with the plan started to falter a bit. Bjorn and I were in a really good place now, I didn't want to risk losing the progress we'd made.

"But won't going back on my decision make me look weak?"

"Not at all. It shows you have given it some thought and decided to take yourself seriously. He'll be disappointed, but I'm sure he'll get over it. We can think of something else to make this Kalf join our cause. We've got plenty of time." He wasn't exactly telling me not to, he just gave me the facts. He wanted me to make an informed decision. Bjorn wasn't forcing or forbidding me to do anything.

How had I ever deserved such a man? I gingerly touched his face. Was he even real? Bjorn leaned into my touch, taking my hand in his and kissing it. I smirked a bit as something came to mind.

"You know, the way you're sitting here before me, my hand in yours... That's how men propose to women in my homeland." Bjorn smiled.

"Does the thought of me proposing to you scare you?"

"Not as much as it might have, before. I love you, and I trust you. You make me feel safe. That's more than I ever thought possible. I'm by no means ready to take a step like that, but I can imagine I will be, someday."

"It gladdens me to hear you say that."

"But I think I am ready for the next step. Would you..." How was I going to say this?

"You know that'd mean we'll live together, don't you?"

"I do. I know it may be fast, but I really think we're ready for it."

"It may be fast for you, but as far as Vikings are concerned we're taking it really slow." I knew Viking tended to love hard and fast, they had to with their lifestyle. At my age, it was a miracle I didn't already have a few children.

"You still haven't said yes," I said, getting nervous at his delayed response.

"Of course I want to. I'd have asked a long time ago, but I wanted it to come from you. I know you need more time for things. And I'm willing to wait for you. I know it'll be worth it in the end."

"You're so good to me. What did I ever do to deserve a man like you?"

"What would you have done to deserve an asshole?" I could name a few things, but I wiped those memories from my mind. I kissed Bjorn, wanting to show my gratitude. He got me down from the makeshift seat and leaned his body over mine. I was vaguely aware of the fact I lay on top of the mead stains on the floor, but I chose to ignore it. Feeling secure in his presence, knowing he'd never do anything to me I didn't want to, I let him loosen the lacing on the front of my gown until my breasts were bared to the air. He loved to take my nipples into his mouth and softly suckle and bite on them, knowing it would make me wet. As his teeth got hold of a nipple and bit it to the point where the pain only added to my pleasure, I groaned.

One of his hands found my folds and teased me into wanting to feel his cock inside of me. I enjoyed his teasing and pretended it wasn't enough, until I had no choice but to beg him to take me. I loved how he would wait until I begged him, giving me a sense of control, while at the same time being at his mercy for the pleasure he could grant me. Both in control and utterly up to the mercy of the other, we made love. Only when both of us were satisfied, he moved aside from me, putting one arm underneath my head and with the other drawing patterns on my body. As I awoke from the trance of orgasm, I opened my eyes and gazed into his bright blue eyes.

"So, your house or mine?" I asked.

"I don't care about it that much. Mine's a bit bigger, but yours is in better shape. And it's a lot tidier than mine, that's for sure. We could use some of my furniture, it'll save me from having to make some."

"Well, I did spend a lot of time on making this feel like my home. But I want it to be your home as well."

"I just need you there for it to feel like home to me. Maybe some clothes and somewhere to put my weapons."

"You want to bring weapons inside?" Bjorn scoffed at that.

"Where else would I put them? You think I'd leave them outside? They'll rust away before winter is gone."

"But I don't like the idea of having kids around those things. They could hurt themselves." Just the thought of Sigurd getting a hold on a knife... His brothers knew to be careful, but accidents happened.

"I thought you'd want to wait until we got married." A - a child? Of our own?

"I was late last month, but..." The light in his eyes made me hesitant to tell him the truth.

"But?"

"Who knows what'll happen. It's just that... Where I come from, it's expected of women to marry before there are children, but I'm not there anymore. I'm here, with you."

"Let's just take it one day at a time. There's not even a baby to worry about yet." I smiled and cuddled up to my Viking.


	67. Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29-11-801

It took two days for Bjorn to move in, mostly due to a blizzard that raged across the village. He was adamant it wasn't a problem when I said we could just wait for the blizzard to stop. I let him continue in his manliness and busied myself with getting the snow off everything he and some friends carried in. We hadn't really decided on where everything would go, but there was barely any choice as my house wasn't that large. As the last chests were carried in, Bjorn shook off the snow and warmed himself by the fire. His fingers looked blue from the cold.

"Aren't the others staying? I got some ale for them."

"Why would they stay?"

"Well, don't you want to thank them for the help? Where I'm from, you usually thank those who help you with food and ale."

"They have their own houses to return to. I've spent plenty of time with them these last two days."

"It's hospitable. Don't tell me I've made all this stew for nothing." I looked down at the pot, seeing there was enough food for at least three days if it was just me and Bjorn eating from it. At the least I could keep it cooled outside so it wouldn't spoil.

"I'm afraid so. I didn't know you went through the trouble."

"I should've asked. I just assumed some things don't change."

"You mean they are different?" I breathed deeply as I realized I'd almost made a mistake. Things change over time, but they are different in other places. This was just too close for comfort.

"Yeah, that. I think I'm just a bit tired."

"Not too tired, I hope. There are some customs to adhere to." I cocked an eyebrow, wondering if it was something that would get my head back on straight.

"Like what?"

"We'll have to make a sacrifice to bless our happiness here, but that one can wait until it stops snowing." A what? Something would have to die, so we could live here in peace? Bjorn caught my face and smiled at me as if to make it all better. "And then there's the ritual coupling in all the corners of the house."

"You made up that one up, didn't you?" I admired his spirit, but I had to recover for a bit. In my head, two worlds were colliding. It had been a while since I'd come this close to being found out.

"What if I did?"

"I'd tell you I could use a drink first, and some food."

"Sounds fair." I sat down at the fancy new seats, at the fancy new table. It was huge, large enough to seat ten.

"Is that sacrifice really necessary?" Bjorn looked up from the plates he was filling up.

"Do you not want to be happy here?"

"Of course I do." How could that even be a question?

"Then we'll need to ask the gods to bless us, and the house. You - you did bless it when you moved in here, right?" I looked out of the window, hoping to avoid his judgmental look. This was the one thing Bjorn didn't fully understand about me, and it would become a hot topic for years to come.

In truth, I thought he was being idiotic for believing in some form of higher power. Gods didn't need to bless us or watch over us. It was also the one thing about him, about this life here I couldn't understand. If there truly were gods like he believed, we'd have found them in a thousand years. Almighty beings didn't just play hide-and-seek.

"How did you come here? Surely you must remember something from the journey here." I bit my lip a bit, wondering why Bjorn would ask me that.

"I didn't choose to come here, exactly. One moment I was in my own country, then I hit my head and woke up here. You know that."

"Did someone take you?"

"No, I just... appeared here. I don't understand it myself, even though Aslaug seems to think your gods have had something to do with it. She's taught me a lot about them, but I'm not convinced they even exist."

"Well, you coming here out of nowhere sounds like something the gods are capable of. How else could you explain it?" I sighed, knowing he wanted to understand my reluctance to talk about it.

"I don't know. There are still plenty of things I don't understand. But who or what it was, I'm happy to have met you."

"And I'm happy to have met you as well. Would it really be such a bad thing if the gods are real to you?"

"I was raised believing in a god, and I didn't like it one bit. Religion can so easily be used to justify crimes and evil behavior. I know not everyone does, but I've met and heard of more than enough people who do. I like how believing can give people a sense of direction or help them through hard times, but... I only believe in what I can see, hear, and feel. Anyway, the only way to find out is if you die. The whole point in believing in something like that is that you don't have any proof." Bjorn sighed as he put down our plates.

"Don't you believe in anything?" I didn't want to have to explain it all again, but I also knew it was best to talk about it now it had come up.

"I believe in you. You've been there for me, you proved I can trust you, and as a result, I feel safe with you."

"That's not believing. If what you say is true, you believe I'm a god just because you can touch me. That's knowing."

"Well then, I believe you'd never hurt me. I believe we will be very happy for a very long time. Because you've proven all those things."

"Then if the gods made you appear here, you'd believe they exist?"

"It would certainly help."

"How many wonders would it take to satisfy you?"

"A lot. I'm very skeptical of such things."

"Really? I hadn't noticed that before." I took a few bites, hoping the tension would die down a bit. It was a foolish hope, of course.

"Would it matter to you? If I never come to believe in them?" Perhaps we should have had this talk before he moved in all his stuff.

"I never thought of that. I always assumed you'd come to see the truth eventually. After all, they do provide a sense of direction and help you through difficult times. And they protect us, and the ones we love. They protect you as well. The gods know what is fated to be, like you suddenly appearing here."

"You didn't answer my question." Bjorn took a second to think before answering.

"I can't imagine how someone can live without believing in gods. Even Athelstan was always hanging onto his or ours, but he never believed in nothing."

"You just have to believe in yourself instead. I believe I hold my own fate, through my actions and the decisions I make. And even if I believed in a form of afterlife, I'd think any god I come across will be satisfied I have lived a life in which I help others and try to be the best version of myself I can be."

"That sounds like you're just not picking one."

"To me, it sounds like I take responsibility for my actions and their consequences. I don't depend on something I don't even know is real, and thank them for what I achieve, nor do I blame them for any bad things that happen."

"Would you teach that to our children?" Where did this can of worms suddenly come from? It was one thing to talk about the gods and how they would influence our lives, but when he talked like this he made me anxious to even mention it.

"I'm not sure. I think the most important thing to teach them is to think for themselves, ask questions, and understand how the world works. I think I'd leave it up to them if they choose to believe or not." Bjorn shot me a look telling me it wasn't exactly a choice, as far as he was concerned.

"That's what all parents want for their children. But you wouldn't tell them not to believe?"

"I wouldn't actively tell them stories about them I guess, unless I think there's a valuable lesson to be learned from it."

"And if I were to tell them those stories? Would you resent me?" Finally, a question I was fully prepared for.

"If I did, I'd be denying that part of you exists. I might not like it, but I'd try to learn to live with it. But you can bet I'll at least teach them some basic things I know."

"Like how the world is actually a ball? And that stars are just suns that are too far away from us to be seen as big than they are?" I would never live that one down.

"I just might. I'd love for them to be able to read and write as well, but it's not like Norse has a written version."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"How else would you record something for prosperity?"

"You can tell your children, who would tell theirs, and so on."

"That's an unreliable source. Words get changed, some things are forgotten or added, you can't be sure."

"That's just mistrustful. Would you think Ragnar lies to his sons? Or can you imagine we will lie to our children?"

"It can happen by mistake as well. And would it be such a bad thing if there would be some piece of paper somewhere who tells exactly the same?"

"I just don't see the need. You can just memorize it, why bother?" I sighed, knowing it was useless to argue about this with Bjorn. My truth was absolute, proven, and far more advanced than his. Him clinging to his backward reasons for believing in the gods and his ways, it made me think he was less well-versed in the ways of the world than me. In this, I didn't consider him my equal.

"I just want our kids to be successful. I want to teach them everything they need to reach whatever they can dream of." Math, grammar, a little geography, English...

"So do I. If we both teach them what we think will get them there, they will conquer the world somehow." He knew we'd start arguing before long if we kept on talking about it. "I'll see to it tomorrow. The sacrifice." I just stared at him, not knowing what to make of it. I didn't want anything dead associated with my home. I thought that was clear to Bjorn, but apparently, there were still some things we needed to talk about.

"Bjorn..."

"You need to accept this as part of our lives." I sighed, not knowing what to say. I didn't want to come between him and his religion, but this...

"Can't we do anything with seidr instead? Does it need to involve blood?" Bjorn pushed his plate aside. He grabbed hold of my hand, looking into my eyes with a troubled look.

"You have no idea what all of it means, do you? Why we do it, who we invoke."

"Aslaug mostly told me stories about Thor slaughtering Jotunn."

"Then how can you be against it, if you don't know what it is we're doing? Do you think it's just about killing something, so it will counter any bad things in the future?" That was a bit simply put, but it was rather close to the mark. "Oh gods... Thor, keep us from harm." Bjorn got up and sat down next to me.

"Do you mean to teach me everything in a day?"

"I mean to tell you there is more you don't know than things you do, about this. And that's okay, I know you have tried to understand. But you must also know that the gods are a huge part of life. And it's a part I hope to one day share with you, or at the very least have you understand how it can mean so much to me." I wasn't looking forward to having to sit through a tough lecture on the finer points of pagan rituals, but I could see it meant a lot to Bjorn.

"So, why the blood?"

"Because it's what keeps us alive. If too much blood is lost, we die. Blood signifies life, and will to live, the same way spit signifies our intentions and wisdom." Already my head was exploding. "Yes?"

"Is that why you lick the Seer's hand? I've been wondering about that ever since I first went to him, and Athelstan wasn't sure about it. And if blood signifies life, then why does Vinh insist on bloodletting? That's just stupid, and it doesn't make sense. And -"

"I can't answer all of your questions at the same time. Let's take it easy, there's a lot to tell you. We sacrifice what we have, animal lives, so the gods may make use of it in Asgard."

"Then why not to Vanaheim? Don't the Vanir -"

"One thing at a time. Gods, you really are clueless, aren't you?" He said it with a reassuring smile, telling me he'd tell me all I wanted to know, and more. There was more, in his eyes. A sort of pride, that I wanted to share in his knowledge. Mostly I had told him about what I knew, of the world, but now he had the upper hand. He was glad to share this part of him with me, and though I still hesitated on just how much I really wanted to know, I was intrigued as well.

"Then what do you hope to buy, when you sacrifice a... What were you planning on killing to make sure this will be a happy home?"

"Two dogs, and we don't hope to buy anything. We offer a sacrifice in the hope that the gods will bless us. That's where the faith comes in, you don't know if it's enough, you just have to trust in the gods."

"Then what will the gods do with two dogs?" I kind of liked dogs, and they were very useful.

"That's for them to decide. It's not like we can go to Asgard and take a look ourselves."

"Okay, so who do you sacrifice them to?" Bjorn's eyes lit up a bit. "I mean, if I were to agree with it."

"Frigg, of course. She's the goddess of households, among other things."

"I thought she was all about the fates that guide you."

"The fates that guide us, you mean. Yes, that as well. The gods are very versatile. Just Freyja is the goddess of love, sex, death, war, gold..."

"That's just a collection of desires. Every man here desires those things, or the best version of it." Bjorn narrowed his eyes a little.

"Yes... That may be true, but we also desire other things, like children."

"Don't you all invoke her whenever there's a birth? Or when a woman wants to get with child? I've had my fair share of requests to grant a blessing for just that."

"The gods are complicated."

"If you can't explain them to me, how can I -" I sighed, seeing the frustration grow in Bjorn's eyes. "You know me. I need to know things if I'm to make sense of it all."

"I do, it's just a little strange to have to explain things I've never thought about. You're trying to analyze it, where I think the gods are something that you feel." That made it impossible for me to ever accept them. How could I feel what I didn't understand? "Just let me tell you why we need their blessing, and what it will mean for us if the gods give it to us. Try to keep your mind open, and I'll try and explain whatever you don't understand. Does that sound fair?" When he was trying to compromise like that, I didn't feel like I had a choice. He was trying to connect with me through his religion, something no one so far had succeeded in. And after all the time I had asked of him to teach him what I knew about love and sex, I couldn't refuse him without giving it a real try first.

"Even if you explain I doubt I'll see the use for taking two lives just to benefit our own... But I'll listen and try to understand. If it's important to you, it's important to me."

"I think that right now that's the best I could hope for. I've already picked them out, do you want to do it before or after breakfast?" I let out a long-winded groan, pulling down my face with my hands. I was not looking forward to this, not one bit. I'd probably have played with those dogs, and to see them killed in front of me...

"Let me guess, I have to be there for it to work?"

"It's to bless both of us, not just me."

"Do they have to be dogs?"

"The alternative would be goats." That wasn't going to happen. "There's a reason we all look at you funny whenever we see you talking to the animals around here, you know that. We don't get attached to them as if they are humans, because it makes it easier for us to sacrifice them. Death is a huge part of life."

"So that's why you told me I was coddling Hvitserk, with Piggy."

"Yes. I know you value all life, and it's your choice to do so, but it's making it hard for us to keep Hvitserk from running into the same problems. I just didn't realize how little you know about it. Aslaug made it sound like you were fully aware of what you were doing, with that oath you swore to protect Ivar."

"I explained it to Ragnar, didn't he tell you? It was only meant for the first few days, so everyone had time to settle down a bit."

"Well, yeah, and by doing so you proclaimed Ivar to be your family." I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Just what the fuck had I done? "Ragnhild? You did know that, right? During the first nine days, and after that... Oh, you didn't. Tell me you did know, because otherwise... Gods, just... How? How could you be that stupid?!" I deserved it. Bjorn had every right to cuss me out, knowing what he did, and I just now found out. By accepting Ivar as part of the family, I'd taken away any choice for anyone concerned. No wonder Helga had been so reluctant, and Ubbe didn't want to have anything to do with it.

I had done the right thing by telling Aslaug just what she needed to hear to fall asleep without getting caught in an oath and then had taken it upon myself to bless Ivar as part of my family. After that, any attempt to leave Ivar out in the woods would be considered murder. So Ivar was part of my family, as well as Ragnar's, and - this was just too complicated. Aslaug wasn't just pissed at me for lying to her about the oath, she'd known about all of this. She thought I'd made a mockery of her faith and was trying to drag Ivar down with me.

But then Ragnar had tried to leave him behind anyway. He had tried to murder his son, and that was something only me and Aslaug knew of, as far as I knew. But that only had counted if Aslaug had performed the same ritual within those nine days, otherwise Ragnar had tried to kill my son? This was just too much. I had no idea just what I'd been messing with, and even though the gods meant nothing to me, to them, to those I loved...

I didn't dare open my eyes to see just how disappointed Bjorn was in me. I didn't want to have to face him just yet and just wanted him to wrap my arms around me and make me feel safe.

"I'm sorry. I should've known better. I fucked up." I didn't know what else to say. I couldn't make this right, there was no turning back on this. Bjorn put a hand in my neck, wrapping his other arm around the small of my back.

"You can't go messing around with things like this if you don't know what it means. I'm so mad at you, but at the same time, I know there was no one to teach you. We can't change what happened, but I won't let you make the same mistake again. I hope you don't have any big plans for this winter because I am reluctant to even let you go out before you have some understanding of what it is the gods and the things we do to honor them mean to us." That was the best I could hope for. "Ragnhild..." I opened my eyes, staring straight at his chest.

"You're right. I thought I knew enough about it, but I don't know anything. Please help me understand. I need you to show me."


	68. May The Gods Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-12-801

No one was very surprised to see Bjorn and I kept to ourselves the first few weeks after he had moved in. Only the two of us knew of what was really going on, which seemed to me to be a crash course in all things godlike.

Bjorn told me of the signs of the gods, and what they meant. He made me recite entire chants, and songs, all to invoke the gods for one reason or another. He told me of the rituals involved for giving birth, for receiving an arm ring, or a girl's first period, for moving in, for marriage, for death, everything. I felt so guilty about the mistake I had made I tried my best to learn all there was to it.

"Then how does that differ from sacrificing a goat to Thor?" I asked.

"Njordr watches over our prosperity that follows from traveling, and Thor makes sure we get there in one piece."

"And they both require a goat."

"Yes."

"Then why sacrifice one goat, and not one each? Or three?"

"Because two is an unlucky number." I thought for a bit, trying to remember all he'd told me about the rituals involved for a good sea voyage. My eyes also glanced at the dog skull above the door.

"How can two be an unlucky number?" I failed to see the relevance to the number thirteen.

"What's not unlucky about it? When people fight, there are two armies. One man kills the second."

"Then the door..."

"That's two separate sacrifices of one." Right.

"And two people get married, two people are required to make a child, and twins, they -"

"There's always a balance. And from marriage comes children, which makes it more than two. Not everything that consists of two is bad, it's just not a number of things you sacrifice." It didn't make sense to me, but I would accept it to be true, to Bjorn at least.

"So that's why only Lucky was sacrificed, that one time. It was for both Ubbe having survived, and for whatever you were heading to after."

"Exactly. Both were great feats of Thor." Even though I had been the one to save Ubbe's life, I noted.

"And you didn't sacrifice three goats, because... That would have been too much? Because it wasn't a first sea voyage of the boat, or for a third reason?"

"You're starting to get it." I smiled back at him, finally starting to feel like I was getting a grasp on the otherwise unspoken rules.

"I like this part where everything has a balance."

"I like the part where talking of the gods makes you smile." His hand found the side of my face. "You've learned a lot. There's still plenty to learn, but you're getting there."

"We've been at it for quite a few weeks, I'd be disappointed if I wasn't getting anywhere by now."

"There's one way to be certain. Can you tell me why it was a mistake to bless Ivar?" I sucked my teeth, thinking of all he had told me.

"It wasn't my place to bless him, that was supposed to be done by Aslaug, or Ubbe since you and Ragnar were gone. I didn't uphold the nine days to see if he would survive on his own. In doing so I tried to steal him away from his mother. Ragnar must have seen it as me trying to keep the boy safe, and he was uncertain if it meant I would have to kill myself if he would try and leave Ivar out in the woods. Then he realized I had no idea what I was doing, and he knew there was something up." Bjorn nodded gravely.

"And why did Ragnar try anyway?" I wasn't sure how I could combine my newfound knowledge of the gods with what I knew of his father.

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I know he wants Aslaug to spend her time on all the boys, not just Ivar."

"That's one part of it. How do you think the gods are involved?" I shook my head, drawing a blank. This was nothing like a test I'd ever had at school, and I was involved in this myself. I was my own biggest blind spot, and this whole subject was my biggest weakness. That usually meant assuming the worst would likely be the best answer.

"I don't know. You've told me about sacrifices, but I can't see how Ivar..." My heart broke. "Please tell me he didn't. Bjorn, tell me he didn't mean to sacrifice Ivar, just to clean up the mess I made." His eyes showed no mercy. They were like ice, hard and unforgiving.

"You declared yourself part of the family. That was something he couldn't deny or chalk up to you being ignorant. The boy only survived because Aslaug found him in the woods by chance. Everything worked out, but if it hadn't..." I would have been responsible for his death, despite my intentions to keep him safe.

"Ragnar wanted to keep me safe. After what happened, with me being...." To him, I had only upped the stakes.

"Floki thought it was a punishment of the gods, to have you succumb to your past the way you did. Father didn't know what to think, and then I acted out as well."

"You talked to him about it?"

"I did, but not in that many words." I leaned back, realizing just what kind of shitstorm had gone on around me when I had thought things were calming down again.

"So now what?"

"Now we can focus on some other things, as well." He didn't look like he was talking about comforting me. "Earl Kalf. He'll get here eventually. We still need to come up with a plan." I didn't feel like plotting about anything right now. After what I'd just learned, and knowing what I did now... I needed Bjorn to calm me down a bit, not familiarize me with even more of my blind spots.

"I need a minute," I said as I got up. "We can talk about this some other time."

"Ragnhild."

"I said, I need a minute. I feel terrible, and I need a goddamn minute to fucking process this!" There was nowhere to go but outside, where it was already dark, and the streets were filled with people who were preparing for Yol. A snowstorm was raging and Ragnar was somewhere out there keeping oversight, or I could choose to hide away in our bed. The soft furs kept the cutting wind away from my skin, and for the first time, I realized why the bedding here wasn't made of sheets or blankets. Animal furs were able to take on the cold breeze that blew through the cracks of any wall, they were a way to survive.

So much happened in my head at the same time, I could only cry. This world was starting to make sense to me now that I knew why the Viking lived as they did. Without all that Bjorn had told me about it, I would have never understood. Everything was in service of the gods. The skulls of the two dogs he had sacrificed hung above the door, one inside and one out, to allow the gods to see how well we lived, and to allow them to see enemies approaching. The drinking horns weren't just fancy, they were part of many a sacrifice, and slaughtered for supplies, and were meant to honor the animal, to make use of all of its parts. The flesh was eaten, the furs were used, and the bones were used for soup, or warding off ghosts, and ghouls, and wights, as well as other evil spirits.

I had no idea just how deeply ingrained the faith was in daily life. No wonder Bjorn had thought I would turn around on the subject, and that Athelstan had trouble keeping his Christian faith. Just a good first night's sleep in a new home was a good omen, clear as writing on the wall. Bjorn felt the presence of the gods in everything he did, and it made him feel at ease.

I, however, felt watched. I didn't want the gods to know of my every move or watch me bathe, hear me sing songs that very often held a reference to heaven, or angels, or the Christian god.

"You promised you wouldn't shout at me anymore when you were just confused," Bjorn said as he lifted up the wolf skin fur I had put over my head. "Why are you hiding from me?" I needed him. Bjorn was my guide, and I relied on him to get me through this safely. I pulled on his arm, remaining silent until he lay down beside me. After making sure the cover hid us both, I took in a deep breath.

"I think I'm hiding from the gods." He let out a laugh, one that told me I was acting like a child. "I feel like there's someone watching me, and I hate it. I just need to be alone every now and then, and after all this talk of the gods..." Bjorn found my face through the darkness I had brought upon us, his fingers gingerly touching my hairline.

"Do you feel them?"

"I feel something, and it's not a good feeling. This isn't how you described it to me. This is... Wrong, somehow." Bjorn came a bit closer.

"The gods could be angry with you."

"For what? I've spent weeks learning all about them, and we have plenty of winter to go before I feel confident enough to even dare bless someone because they ask. We haven't even started on the holidays yet."

"Maybe that's why they are angry. You've been careless."

"But I vowed to do better, and here I am, trying my best."

"Only now you understand the gravity of it all. The gods can't be angry with you if you're ignorant. Or it could be about something completely different. Maybe they're just telling you to make me dinner." I shoved at his chest.

"This isn't funny! I'm trying to have a serious conversation about this, and you just make fun of me!" I didn't care that he heard me sob. "It's for your sake I even bothered with it, and now I feel like I can't ever feel safe again!" He threw the furs off and must have seen how hurt I felt. I let him pull me in, wanting him to comfort me, still.

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to cheer you up. I couldn't see how much this all affected you. You did hide away from me." I kept silent and just cried, allowing myself to feel it all. The hurt over Bjorn's opinion of what I'd done, the fear over feeling watched, all the mistakes I'd made that somehow made sense now, and how stupid I felt for not finding out sooner.

"How do you feel now?" Bjorn looked calm, not worried at all. "Do you still feel like the gods are angry?" I wanted to tell him I hated the gods. I wanted to shout at him they didn't exist, that they were nothing but vicious cunts if they did, and that there was no way they were really able to hear and see all we did, not with this many people all over Scandinavia.

"I feel angry at myself." Talk of the gods had just made it seem like some outside force was feeling everything for me. I wasn't able to separate what I felt myself from what the gods might have felt. This was just so similar to when I was young. Whenever my father had been mad at me, and I felt afraid, or angry because of it, he told me God was afraid for me or angry with me. I couldn't keep it apart if there was even a single deity involved.

I refused to believe they were real. They couldn't be real or have any influence over me if I didn't acknowledge them. I'd play the part in town, and I'd be more mindful of what I said and did, but I would never bend down to their will and ultimate laws if that wasn't what I thought was right. Bjorn could keep his faith, but I'd never share it.

"Why would you be angry with yourself?"

"Because I was stupid and foolish. I thought I knew enough to get by, and now it turns out I'm almost responsible for Ivar dying when I was only trying to save him."

"Do you still feel the gods?"

"No. It was just how I felt, I was judging myself. I got confused for a bit, that's all." I turned around, facing the wall.

"Ragnhild, you're making it very difficult for me to not get angry at you." I rolled my eyes, then sat up to face Bjorn.

"I still don't believe in them."

"I know that. And it makes me sad. You don't see just how much the gods were a part of bringing you here, and you keep dismissing them. It's like they're just a bunch of stories you haven't heard yet. Why can't you accept they are real? How can you not see just how much they love you?"

"Would you rather I lie about it? That I pretend to hear them when thunder roars, or whenever I see an animal robbed of its life?"

"Then what will you do during Yol? Stay inside? Make an outcast of yourself? You have a role to play, and as far as Kattegat is concerned you are the closest connection to the gods there is for miles around. They will expect you to participate, you can't just hide behind your boundaries." I wanted to lash out, but I couldn't. Bjorn was right, and he was trying to help me.

"I don't know. I can't lie to the town, but I can't lie to myself, either. Can't I just fake being too sick to get out of bed?" All I got was a disappointed look.

"I don't understand. I'm trying to, I really am, but how can you not see what I see? You were brought here by the gods, Freyja chose you as her vessel, and you have done their work in their name. You gave Siggy a child, you even blessed Aslaug, so Ivar would come out alive..." He sounded desperate, not confused. And after what happened at Wilfrid's village, with the two people who had found me, I knew what he was afraid of. If I was found out, I could be killed for dishonoring the gods. Ragnar would have to bend to the will of his people if it came to that. "Is it truly all a lie to you? Don't you believe you are her vessel?"

"I don't want to hurt you. I know how much it means to you, but I can't give you what you want. Maybe we should just try and get some sleep and talk about it in the morning."

"I don't want to go to sleep with this still hanging between us. And you haven't answered my questions. Hasn't there been even a second you felt the presence of the gods? That you realized there just might be something after all? Can't you see the signs you have already received from the gods? You bear three of them on your own skin, you do see them, right?" I lifted up my skirts, seeing the two cats. Tiger and Licorice, they were called.

"Bygul and Trjegul. They guide her to where she needs to go. Maybe they will guide you as well. It's worth a try. Take off your clothes." I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"If you're suggesting sacrificing two cats, I will scream at you."

"I'm suggesting nothing of the sort. I just spent weeks teaching you there's more than just sacrifice and blood."

"Then please, explain it to me." Bjorn got a smug grin on his face.

"There are three ways for us to connect to the gods," he said as he got off the bed.

"Sacrifice, seidr, and prayer." I still felt unsure what he could hope to achieve. Seidr was pretty much magic, as I had understood it, and prayer was just not my thing. I might as well be talking to thin air.

"Isn't it obvious? Close your eyes." I did as he said, but not before I shot him a wary look. "Athelstan once told me his kind consider us to be sexually deviant."

"You haven't seen him since before we had sex." Bjorn ignored me.

"The thing is, we can pray in more ways than one. There's not just the type where you stare at the clouds and yell at them, as you would say." I heard him rummage around in the kitchen, but I kept my eyes closed as he had told me.

"Is the Seer involved with that?"

"Yes, in a way he is. Talking to him is much more direct than yelling at some wooden cross, or a necklace. Our gods respond, through him." To him, maybe. I was yet to hear them or see them. The Seer was just very well informed on everything that happened in Kattegat, and Aslaug's premonitions... They were just... Lucky guesses. All of them.

"The Seer does know things I can't explain." He had known Ragnhild wasn't my real name, and he knew I wasn't from this time. I frowned a bit as I thought back to our encounter. "Do you mean for me to visit him again?"

"Then why would I ask you to strip naked, and close your eyes?" He helped me take off my dress.

"Why did you?" In response, he tied a strip of cloth over my eyes. It surprised me a little as I was unprepared for it, and it excited me as I knew that blindfold could only mean one thing. "Bjorn?" My breathing already grew deeper, just from the excitement.

"Just feel. Let it all in, don't try and explain it." His hands guided me down on the bed. The furs tickled a bit, as they always did. My fingers slid over the furs, clutching the hairs I knew to be grey and white between my fingers. The furs were safe, and comforting, as was Bjorn's voice.

I took in a sharp breath as I felt something cold and wet fall on my skin. It was too thick to be water.

"Honey?"

"Shh, don't think. Just feel. Keep your mind open." My mind was racing, and there was no stopping it. The honey felt cold at first, then seemed to heat up my skin. It fell on my chest, my arms, my stomach, my legs...

"Bjorn, is -"

"No. Stay quiet. Ragnhild, please."

"But the furs..." I heard a tired sigh, then the blindfold was raised a bit, just enough for me to see Bjorn's face.

"I'll clean up everything after. Now can you please try and calm down enough to give it a go? Or am I wasting my time?" It meant so much to him, I felt like an asshole for interrupting the way I had.

"I'll stay quiet." Bjorn put back the blindfold, and soon I felt him spreading out the honey over my entire body. I felt like I was glowing, somehow feeling like I was warming up from the inside.

His hands slowly went over all my skin and muscles, almost as if to massage the honey into my skin. At the least, my skin would be soft after this.

"This feels good," I said softly, not knowing if I could say anything at all. Bjorn silenced me with a kiss, then went on to massage the honey into my breasts. My nipples went hard, and it felt more intense than ever. The heat of the honey made my skin tingle, and I couldn't keep in a soft moan. This was allowed, apparently. Bjorn moved on down with his hands again, then pulled me up a bit. The air moving across my skin was enough to make me gasp.

"That's it," he whispered. "Feel it all, take it all in." I felt him tying my hair together, then a drizzle over my shoulders dripping down my back. He kept up the same motions as he rubbed my back, leaving not a scrap of skin untouched.

He must have sat behind me, as I felt his lips touching my back at about the same height my tattoo was. His lips felt cool against my skin, not warm like how I knew them to be. My whole body felt like fire, softly swirling and swaying to the breeze Bjorn provided.

"Bjorn..." His hands reached around, touching the side of my breasts. I raised my arms, feeling every breath of air Bjorn let out, every puff of air that made it through the cracks in the walls. His fingers were on a mission. He coated my sides as well, moving in a strange triangle.

I almost let out a scream as I felt his chest against my back, feeling the cold and the warm clash, feeling his strong, lean body against my soft skin. My hands tried to clutch his neck, but he caught my wrists. He might have mumbled something in my ear, but I felt too much to be able to listen. His breath in my neck, the sensual way he let his fingers slide over my arms, softly pulling them down to rest by my sides, the way his chest pounded into me with each and every one of his solid, slow heartbeats.

His lips found my tattoo again, and his hands found my other markings. His lips and fingers slipped and slid over them, tracking them as if he could see them all at the same time.

The heat slowly died down from my chest, bringing me down from my gentle cloud. Bjorn fell silent, somehow he'd still made a sound? His hands softly pushed me down. He had just been sitting behind me, how could this be?

"Bjorn?" I was starting to panic. I felt my breathing increase. This was some sort of drug-induced effect, it had to be. There was something with this honey, he must have mixed something in it.

"Shh, it's okay. Just feel." I tore off the blindfold, not wanting to go with this any longer. I needed fresh air, I needed to get this hot stuff off of me, I didn't need someone who told me -

Bjorn was dressed, sitting in front of me. I took in a deep breath, and I could do so with ease. I didn't feel his breath caress my skin.

Now I started to panic for real.

"Ragnhild? I haven't even started, I -"

"Liar. You were almost done. I felt it, you did this... This thing, you were behind me, and then you were in front of me, and you were naked. I know what I felt, how did you get dressed again so fast?"

"Just what do you think I did? Ragnhild?" I got up and tried to get the honey off me. It was only on my arms. I could've sworn... The touch of his hand on my arm made me jump up.

"How could you? You put something in that honey, you tried to drug me."

"It's just honey. Ragnhild, please. Tell me what you think happened. Something obviously did, but I swear, it wasn't me."

"So what, I'm to believe someone else just slathered me in honey? That for some reason it felt warm, and some stranger massaged it into my skin, in some strange pattern?" He looked like he understood, and it only made me madder at him.

"Would that be the same pattern as your tattoo?" What? How could that be the thing he focused on?

"Get away from me, Ironside. I don't know what you did, but I don't like you trying to trick me like this. Is that it? Do you just want me to believe something weird happened, just so I'll fit your image of -"

"Ragnhild." He tried to hold my hand, but I pulled it back. With most of the honey off of me now, I put my dress back on. "You're getting mistrusting again."

"This is not mistrust, this is fact. You did something to me, and I hate you for it."

"The gods were here. How else can you explain that the honeypot is still full? I swear, I didn't touch you yet." He must have been lying. This was impossible. I knew what I felt, and what I heard. Even the air smelled a little funny as if he'd thrown in some of those weird herbs that made you see things.

The pot was still mostly full. Just a little had gone, just enough to cover my arms in it. I froze as I saw, feeling the ground fall away from under me.

Bjorn helped me sit down and got me some mead. I didn't dare tear my eyes away from the honey.

"I still don't believe in them. It was just some hallucination. You threw some herbs in the fire."

"I did, but not the kind you might think. Those were just to get a pleasant smell inside the house. I wanted you to feel and hear it, and not just focus on what you can see, and what you can know. Will you please tell me what you felt?" I didn't want to talk about it. I needed to process this first, I needed to understand just what had happened.

"I'm still mad at you."

"You know I'd never hurt you. Do you really think I would pull some elaborate prank on you to get my way? Don't you think I know you would figure it out? Not to mention how it would anger the gods to come up with some bogus ritual." His faith was ironclad. He wouldn't anger them, or me.

"You told me not to worry about the furs getting dirty, and just to let it happen. There was this... You were chanting, I guess? I couldn't really hear it. There was just this... This warmth, and I could feel every breath you took on my skin. You went over all of my skin, and..." I gingerly touched my hair. It hung loosely over my shoulders, and there wasn't a trace of honey there. "You tied my hair, so you could do the same to my back. Then I panicked when I felt you push me down, but I could've sworn you were still behind me..." I felt like an idiot, speaking of it now I'd calmed down a little. Bjorn took my hands in his.

"Do you remember what I was chanting about?" I shook my head.

"You were kissing me all over as you did it, and... It was like I could only feel you, and that warmth. Everything else just faded."

"So you're confused because you can't explain it?" I nodded.

"It was all so real..."

"Because it was. To me, it just looked like you got scared when I told you to keep your mind open."

"No, that's not possible. That's at least half an hour ago."

"If you can't explain it, then the impossible must be true." I scowled at how he butchered that quote, and because it was true. "It's not either true or false. There's a lot of shades in between. Just because you don't understand how the gods can be everywhere at the same time doesn't mean this didn't really happen."

"The gods either exist, or they don't." Bjorn sighed, then kissed my hands.

"You're too smart for your own good. There's no way I can try and make it easier for you. I don't know what you have against them, or what makes you hesitate. I can only ask you to not reject this as something that didn't really happen. This was just as real as my love for you." I didn't know what to think, or what to feel. There was only exhaustion, and emptiness.

"I never want to go back to there where voodoo awakens me. It's like the other one made me better." I got up and got out of my dress again, getting ready for bed.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. It's a song from back home, about this sort of thing."

"It sounds like a weird sort of poetry." I'd heard their weird poetry, it was ridiculous.

"Why don't you ask the gods what it means? They tell you all you need to know."

"You're trying to get me to fight you again. Why do you keep snapping at me?" His calm infuriated me.

"If I tell you that, we'll be fighting for real. I don't want to have to break your heart."

"Are you saying you think this is something I might leave you over?"

"No! Gods, Bjorn, get a grip. I'm saying I don't want to fight to the point I will feel the urge to kick you out for the night. You'll resent me for what I'll say, and I just don't have the energy to talk about it anymore. I just want to fall asleep and wake up tomorrow and figure out what to do about Yol." He bit back a comment. Something along the lines of not ruining the half-year point, no doubt.

I lay down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Just what had happened... What was I going to do now? How could I face all of those people knowing what I now knew?

Bjorn crawled up beside me, but he noticed I was just going through the motions, kissing back absent-mindedly. I wasn't there, not really. My mind was off to different times.


	69. Fear Of The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-12-801

Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't sleep. I kept staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it. Bjorn was having a fitful night himself, jerking around with his legs as he tossed and turned.

After what felt like hours I got up, thinking a bracing walk up and down the street might make me feel better. The snow had stopped falling, at the least, and the only fun thing about winter was trudging in clean, unspoiled snow.

Aside from Yol and the many sacrifices that awaited, there was another thing that kept me up. Earl Kalf, the bane of my dreams. The man who thought to sweep me off my feet. Perhaps telling him that I didn't believe in the gods was enough to scare him off... And have Ragnar lose yet another possible ally because of me.

I brought a torch along, sure I wouldn't see anything without it. The snow crunched beneath my shoes, and I knew I left a trail going all the way to the square.

"Holy shit," I whispered. The bonfire was huge already, much larger than last year's, or the one I'd seen the first year I was here. My third year already, here. And only now I realized how tenuous my position truly was.

I came closer, seeing it almost looked like a stake where witches would be burned on in a few centuries, if that didn't already happen.

"Mær?" I jerked around, seeing no one near. I was sure I heard my name. Was I still hallucinating?

"Who is it? Show yourself." No one called back. I must have still been tripping balls. Whatever Bjorn had done to me, I would give him an earful in the morning.

A soft song seemed to be playing, but the wind kept me from hearing it. The music swelled, and behind me, I saw torches approaching. I tried to hide from sight, but I couldn't move my feet. I was snowed in up to my knees. The torches kept coming closer and the music got louder, as did the wind. I barely recognized there was a drum, and something... A guitar? An oud? Almost something in between.

The torches were almost upon me, and the wind kept blowing snow at me, trapping me in place even more. I couldn't recognize who was coming at me, nor did they seem to notice me. The two figures at the head of the column passed me by, followed by the rest, walking four abreast. I watched them go as they passed me by, not seeing me at all. They were blind to me, and I couldn't see underneath their hoods. Nothing made sense. They were silent, and even as their cloaks brushed up against me I couldn't feel them.

"Hello?" I reached out to them, but I couldn't feel them, as they couldn't feel me. "Is this where I don't want to wake? Are you here to make me better?"

"Ragnhild..." The voice came from beside me, soft and a little worried. I blinked and was back in bed, with Bjorn lying beside me. The heat of the fire suffocated me.

"I had a dream," I sighed as I sat up. "Go back to sleep, I'll be fine. I just need some water."

"You were talking. It sounded like those same words again, the ones you said before. What does it mean?"

"It's nothing," I said as I crawled over him to get out of bed.

"It's enough to keep you up at night." I closed my eyes for a second, not wanting him to worry more than he had to.

"There's a storm," I said as I turned to face him.

"It stopped hours ago."

"The song. The words, I mean. There's a storm, it disappeared. With lighting never turned around. My head, for a moment it feels like someone who lives without. No need, no honor, is this the turning point. And then what I said before."

"That makes no sense. I thought you only sang songs about love."

"Most of them are." I took a sip from the mug of water I'd drawn from the cloth-covered bowl in the kitchen. "There's much more to sing about, it's just those about love are easiest to remember. I used to listen to those the most. Why do you ask?"

"Because I know how much those songs mean to you. Is it that strange I want to know more about it? The way you keep them to yourself, it's almost like they're a god you keep to yourself." I smirked, knowing what he was trying to get at.

"Songs are not a god, or a religion."

"They just offer guidance and support? You can't see music, but you can hear it, and feel it."

"The songs are just that. They're fun."

"Then why not share them with me?" I leaned back, not wanting to answer. I sucked my teeth for a bit.

"You're coming up with a lie. Why don't you tell me the truth?"

"Because sometimes I just can't." I finished the mug and crawled back into bed.

"Then why try to lie?"

"I was trying to think of a way to make you understand what I can't just explain." Bjorn raised an eyebrow. "No, don't you dare. This has nothing to do with the gods or making me feel how you feel about me feeling the gods or anything of the sort. I can't explain it to you." I faced away from him, but he wouldn't let go.

"Will you then at least sing me that song? About the reversed lightning?"

"It's a crappy song without the music. You don't have the right instruments, and I wouldn't be able to play them if you would."

"Then another one. You know so many. And I know how this is something so important to you, I just want you to be able to share it with me." If it would get him to shut up...

"Just one. It's from the same skaldr, but you better keep quiet." I took a deep breath, then started to sing the soft, deep words. Bjorn kissed my neck as I did, gently moving his hand over my side.

"I am lost, I am numb, it's not because of me, my lack of -" My lack of faith. Just why did these songs pop up in my mind at a time like this?

I sat up straight, feeling more than a little unsettled. I didn't have to see his face to know Bjorn was worried about me suddenly stopping the song.

"I don't know what is going on here, but I feel like I am losing my mind. I can't even dream or sing without something freaking me out."

"What's so strange about the song?"

"It's about someone losing faith because it was torn away from them." I wanted to get up and leave, I wanted Bjorn to just hold me in my arms, I wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep where nothing could touch me, or harm me.

"Didn't you know that when you chose it?"

"Songs have many meanings where I come from. Any song that's about love can be about three other things as well. Bjorn, I'm scared..." He pulled me in his arms, his fingers stroking my hair.

"This isn't just about the gods. You're terrified of something else, and it's keeping you back." I pushed him off me, hard.

"Are you implying I'm still afraid of that Christian piece of shit?"

"Aren't you?" I gasped, not believing what I was hearing.

"How dare you," I whispered, shaking with anger. "You know how I feel about him, and what he did to me. How the fuck! Where do you - aargh!" I slapped him in his face, I tried to scratch out his eyes, I yelled as I held me by my wrists. "How dare you! What do you know about fear! What do you know about sacrifice, or pain, or suffering!"

Bjorn did the only thing he could do. He waited for the storm of emotions inside of me die down, until I fell against his chest in a puddle of tears and emptiness.

"It's okay," he said as his thumb stroked the spot behind my ear as he held me tight. "I knew this was coming, I'm here for you."

"How did you know?" Only half the words came out, my voice breaking as my heart had.

"It's what's keeping you back. You're terrified of the gods. You're scared they will hurt you like that other god did. You closed off your heart." His words didn't make sense to me. How could I fear what wasn't real?

How could it hurt me, if it wasn't real? As long as I kept telling myself that over and over, there was no reason to fear. I could convince myself it wasn't there, and that it couldn't hurt me.

"How can you love me?" I breathed in his scent, calming down as another storm took over my mind. "I'm broken, and sometimes I feel like I can't ever get fully repaired."

"Does that need to happen? Everyone's a little crazy. It's difficult to love you at times like these, but I know it'll pass. I know how hard you work at it, and every single time you end up crying in my arms I know it'll be better from there on out."

"That doesn't make sense. None of this does."

"Does it matter? I love you, Ragnhild."

"I feel like I'm just dragging you down all the time. Maybe you're better off with someone else. Someone who -"

"Someone who will laugh in my face because I burned dinner again, instead of telling me why it went wrong? Someone who will want to be with me because of who my father is? Some woman who will never want to know me like you do? You're so blind to what is good about you, I don't know how your eyes even work. I'm in this for the long haul, and I want you to hear that from me. You made sure I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew this would happen someday, on your way to finding the gods. I knew you would make mistakes, just like I knew I would make them as well."

"But Bjorn..." I didn't even know what I wanted to say.

"But what? Don't you remember how I was still a puppy nipping at your heels for attention just a year ago? Didn't we almost fall apart half a year ago because we didn't know what the other wanted? Have you not taught me how to love you, and how to make love to you? Do you not deserve to be loved?"

"But I don't get it. You're just so..."

"So what?"

"You could have anyone you wanted. You're Ragnar's son, you're destined for greatness. You should marry some princess or something, not stick with me just because you've invested so much time and energy in me."

"Ragnhild... Look at me, please. I've never met anyone like you. Hey." I looked up at him through my lashes, taking in a ragged breath. "You're beautiful, and not just because your skin is flawless. I love the color of your eyes and the way you touch my heart when you make sure my plate doesn't have any carrots. I love the curve of your back, and that face you make when I make you wait... I love the sound of your voice when you beg, and the way you love almost everyone you meet. The stories you know, the way your hair catches the light of the sun, the way you talk of swimming in a frozen sea for fun... I could go on for hours. Do you really think I will give all that up just because you got mad when I said something that hurt you?" I just let his words wash over me, letting them fill my heart with hope for the times to come.

"It's almost dawn," I said as I heard the first voices carrying in from outside.

"We've got a lot to talk about, but if you want to eat something first..."

"I feel like I hardly slept."

"It was a long night. Are you feeling a little better, at least?"

"I mostly feel sad. I feel like I let you down."

"Are you kidding? I'm proud of you. You never talked about all of this before, not like this. That means you're starting to heal."

"But the gods..."

"We've made great progress. Let's just worry about something else for a bit, there can be such a thing as hearing of the gods too much. I like to think I know you quite a bit, you'll want to think about this for a bit before you ask me for help."

"What did I ever do to deserve a man like you?"

"You must have done something right, to make me love you the way I do." I sat up a bit and kissed him. Bjorn was the one I could depend on, the one to pull me through whatever hell I thought I was in. He knew me, better than I knew myself. A man like him...


	70. Return Of A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-03-802

Bjorn noticed I was getting more anxious as the days passed by, and the day Kalf would arrive was drawing nearer. I was hoping I'd get by without being too obvious about it, but over dinner, he brought it up.

"You can still change your mind," he said. I sighed and put down my cutlery. "I can see it's tearing away at you."

"Do you know if someone else has noticed?"

"Of course Ragnar has noticed. You're not as good at hiding your feelings as you might think, not from those closest to you." I opened my mouth, but Bjorn wasn't done yet. "Don't tell me everything will be just fine. Even if it turns out you only have to woo him, it's already hurting you right now."

"It's my choice to make," I said a bit harsher than I'd meant.

"I know that, and I respect that, but I'm free to talk about how it bothers me as well. With Horik coming back soon as well it's only natural you're feeling the pressure build."

"Oh, he can go suck a dick. It's not like I threw that boy out of a boat to drown or something." Ari had made his own decision, whatever he read into my words was his fault, not mine.

"He's just looking for someone to blame, you know that. He can't do anything until he's got all his pieces in place. But I don't want to talk about him."

"You brought him up," I said, then realized I didn't want to start a fight about fighting. "You're right."

"So? What do you think? How do you feel about it?" I thought about it for a moment, not sure how to phrase it.

"I want to do this like we planned. I'm just not sure if... I don't know, I have this weird feeling in my gut telling me something else is going on."

"If there was, Ragnar would have told us." He was right, of course. With so many strands to tie up, he had been honest about what he wanted to achieve and how. "What are you really worried about?"

"What if I mess up? There's so much that could go wrong, I could get us all killed." Bjorn grabbed hold of my hand from across the table.

"Ragnhild, you'll do fine. I'm not worried about you messing up, I'm worried about how it might affect you after it's all over. It took us so long to get where we're at now, I don't want to lose any of it, you in particular." I should've known he would say something like that.

"That's the part I'm least worried about. Whatever might happen, I know you'll be there for me. I know I can trust you, with everything. Otherwise, I'd never have asked you to move in with me, and with that whole Yol thing..."

"If that were true, you'd have been the one to tell me about what does worry you. You'd have brought it up yourself. You've had plenty of time to worry about it yourself, please share it with me."

"Bjorn, please. Not now. I already feel like crap." I pulled my hand from his and put it in my lap.

"Then when?" He spoke in a caring, soft voice. "Who knows when he'll be here. We need to talk about it while we still can. I want to know you'll be fine, whatever might happen." He was right, but I didn't want to admit it.

"Can we just have a quiet night? We'll talk in the morning, but right now I just want to avoid thinking about it. Just for a little while." Bjorn sighed and cleared off the table. He knew I wouldn't be hungry for the rest of the night. He made to stand behind me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

"I love you too much to let something like this slide. It's too important. I'd really prefer to talk about this now." We'd have to reach a compromise somehow. I was tempted to start screaming just to keep from talking about it, but that was exactly what we had agreed not to do on moments like these.

"How about we talk about it after a nice back massage?" Maybe if the tension in my body lessened a bit, I'd feel more comfortable talking about it.

"You go lie down, I'll put on the water." I got up and kissed Bjorn, then I took off my dress and cloth. Lying down on the bed I waited for Bjorn to finish putting the kettle on and join me.

With me lying on my stomach and Bjorn sitting on top of me, I already started to relax. When his hands started moving over my back I let out a soft moan.

"Oh, this feels so good," I sighed as his hands focused on my neck and shoulders. "Oh yeah, right there..." Bjorn chuckled a bit, then let his hands slip down a bit to my sides.

"You like this, too?" His fingers brushed past the side of my breasts.

"Bjorn," I groaned a bit reproachfully. We were supposed to talk afterward, not have sex. His hands moved to my back again. He found a knot in my shoulder and pushed on it a little. I yelped a little as I felt the pressure.

"Ragnhild?" A voice called out through the door.

"Who is it?" I asked. Bjorn got off me, but not before he kissed me in the nape of my neck.

"It's Athelstan." I jumped up at that. Athelstan? He was supposed to be dead, or at the least in England.

"Athelstan? Give me a second, I'll be right there." I didn't bother with the cloth and put my dress back on. Bjorn opened the door as soon as I was halfway decent.

"When did you get back?" Bjorn asked. He threw his arms around the priest, having missed him almost as much as I had.

"About an hour ago. It's good to see you, Bjorn. I wasn't sure if I should come by..." It was my turn to hug him.

"Bjorn was just giving me a massage, I've been a bit stressed lately."

"Nothing bad, I hope?" I didn't know how to respond other than let out an awkward chuckle.

"Tea?" Bjorn asked. We sat down at the table, happily ignoring Athelstan's question. He didn't press it.

"How did you get back here?" I asked. "After what Horik told us, we were sure you had died."

"King Ecbert saved me from getting crucified." He held out his hands for me to see. In the middle of his palms were clear scars where the nails must have been hit through them.

"They branded you an apostate?" I was shocked to hear it. "Your feet as well?" Athelstan nodded.

"I had some trouble getting around at first, but I'm glad they missed the bones in my hands. I can still do everything, though I've become a little clumsy."

"Why did the king save you?" Bjorn asked. He shot me a curious glance as if to ask this was really something that happened. After a winter full of hearing from me how cruel his gods could be, and me talking about Athelstan’s, this must have been quite a shock to him.

"I don't know. He took me to his court and asked me to translate things for him from Latin. Scriptures, texts about warfare, anything he could find. His villa was an old Roman house." Bjorn didn't seem to understand all Athelstan was saying, but he let it slide for now. Athelstan needed someone who understood what he'd been through, or at least understood the implications.

"I can't imagine he let you go," I said. "You make it sound like you didn't really enjoy your time there."

"Well, I err..." He took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue.

"Athelstan?"

"There were some... circumstances. I'd rather not tell." With everything I'd kept from him, I couldn't begrudge him not wanting to answer. "He thought it best if I stayed away from court for some time, then I made my escape. I fell in with some traders who went to Frisia first and wintered there. It took me a while to get here."

"I'm glad you made it back, whatever the reason or the road. You've missed a lot."

"Yes, Ragnar told me some of it. I'm glad to see you're happy now." I started smiling, thinking back to the last time we talked. I had still been a slave. "He also mentioned he wants to go to Paris in the spring." It was my turn to burn my tongue on the tea now.

"Ragnar's been preparing for that ever since it came up," Bjorn said. He knew my side of that fight. "He's been gathering allies, and Floki's been building ships non-stop."

"I didn't bring it up to get into a fight. I just wanted to know if you'd be joining. Ragnar asked me if I'd be willing to go since I speak the language."

"He did?"

"I told him I'd have to think about it. I wanted to know if you'd join as well. I know you don't like talking about religion, but you're the only one around here that could possibly understand what I've been through. I... I need to talk about it with someone." I put my hand on his. "Ragnar told me that you help people, now that you're free."

"Athelstan, of course, I'll talk to you about it. I'm not planning on joining any raid soon, but I'm here for you if you need to talk. Right now, I'm just glad to see you again. I've been taking care of your books."

"I was wondering where they'd gone. I must admit I was afraid Floki had burned them all."

"He did bring that up every now and then, but I enjoyed reading them. The Latin ones were a bit difficult, but I've been brushing up on my English."

"How's that going?" he asked me in his version of English, which made Bjorn raise an eyebrow.

"Like north men speak at begin," I responded in the same language. "Not much good."

"Not very good," he corrected automatically. When he noticed what he was doing we shared a laugh.

"Should I leave you alone for a bit?" Bjorn asked. "I'd be happy to let you catch up." Bjorn and I still had some important things to discuss. I didn't want to take him up on his offer just to get out from under it.

"Actually, I would like to talk to Ragnhild alone," Athelstan said a bit self-conscious. "If you don't mind, that is..."

"You wouldn't be the first one to kick me out for some private time with her," Bjorn said. "I'll go see what the boys are up to."

"Thank you, Bjorn. It really is nice to see you again."

"We'll talk later?" Bjorn nodded and gave me a kiss before he left. I turned back to Athelstan.

"Did I interrupt something?" Athelstan asked.

"It's been a bit hectic, that's all." I didn't want to worry Athelstan over what had been happening here. That would take quite a while, with all that had been happening since I had become a free woman. "It's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. What's bothering you?"

"It's just... I wanted to ask you... You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I know you don't like to answer too many personal questions, but -"

"Athelstan. What is it?" He took a deep breath.

"When did you realize you had fallen from faith?" Oh, my. This was not like when he'd asked me about this earlier. He didn't want to convince me of his being right, he wanted to know what had brought me to it.

"It wasn't something that suddenly happened. I started asking questions I didn't get a satisfactory answer to. I wondered why the bible seemed to contradict itself in some places, and why some rules were followed, and others weren't."

"But when did you realize there was no god?" His eyes were pleading to hear a clear-cut answer. I couldn’t give it to him.

"I'm not sure, to be honest... I found so many things wrong with the texts I just lost my faith a little each day. Did something happen that made you doubt your faith?"

"It did..."

"What happened?"

"It wasn't so much as one thing, but just... details, that didn't seem to add up." He stared down at his mug, frowning as he thought back. One of his fingers kept brushing over the clay.

"Does it have to do with why Ecbert sent you away?"

"It does. There was a woman..." One of these stories. "She wanted to confess her sins to me."

"You loved her," I said with a smile.

"I - how did you know that?"

"Because just mentioning her, you have this look in your eyes. You miss her, don't you?"

"I do... But I don't miss what came of it. She... got pregnant." She must have been quite something if he had broken his vow of celibacy for her. Repeatedly, I imagined.

"Oh, Athelstan... That's why Ecbert sent you away, didn't he?"

"The woman was living at his court. I knew who she was..."

"It wasn't his daughter, was it?"

"No, thank go - no. She was - is the wife of his heir. Her name is Judith." I couldn't stop a chuckle from coming from my mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just... Out of all the women on that island, you had to fall for the princess."

"You're one to talk..."

"I knew what I was getting into. Sort of. It's complicated." Athelstan just raised an eyebrow at my pathetic attempt to say it was different. "It's a long story." He just sipped his tea, eyes staring at me intently. "I need to talk about it with Bjorn first. Let's focus on you for now." He seemed to accept that, for the moment.

"Judith is the wife of Aethelwulf, Ecbert's heir. He couldn't possibly be the father, as he was away when we..."

"Had sex. It's not a dirty word, Athelstan. You're human, just like the rest of us. Pretending you don't have urges or desires is stupid and foolish."

"It was more than that. I truly loved her."

"Tell me about her."

"She has the most wonderful eyes. They're such a wonderful brown, I could drown in them just from looking into them. And her cheeks have this little dimple when she smiled... She's fierce, though, unlike any - well, kind of like you I guess? She has such fire... She could read, can you imagine? How rare is that... Judith is smart and kind, and so loving... I hated to see her trapped in her marriage. We often talked about it, and all else that was going on. She wasn't just my lover, she was my friend."

"She sounds wonderful. I'm sure she misses you, too." Athelstan's smile turned sad.

"I'm worried, though. If the baby's born..."

"If they'll crucify an apostate, what will they do to an unfaithful wife?" I felt a spark of anger rise inside me as I said the words. Men could do whatever they wanted, but women were held to a much higher standard. One misstep and they would be beaten, mutilated, or worse. What kind of god would approve of that? Things would be better in my time, but still...

"I don't think they'll stone her, but..."

"I'd tell you it's all going to be okay, but we both know it won't. All you can do is pray that she'll survive and that you will meet her again one day."

"I just worry that won't happen until we meet in Heaven. Ragnhild, how could something that felt so good be so wrong? What is wrong with love that pure?" My heart broke for him. I couldn't imagine losing Bjorn over something stupid that had to do with double standards and religion, something that was so completely out of my control.

"It's not. Don't ever doubt that. Love doesn't follow any rules we can understand. Love just happens, and it is wonderful. Someone once told me that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."

"I'll have to think on that. It sounds nice enough, but... I think in some cases, ignorance is bliss. I feel terrible about what has happened."

"It's still fresh. But as far as I'm concerned, it will make you a better man. Though it might take some time to see that for yourself."

"I hope you're right. That sounds better than feeling this crushing guilt for the rest of my life." He leaned back as he spoke the words, staring off into the distance. I gave him a moment and sipped my tea.

"I can't promise it'll get better, but it will at least get easier."

"Thank you," Athelstan said with a soft smile. "It's great to talk to you again. Your accent isn't as bad as it used to be."

"I'm happy you're back, too. There's so much to tell you, I hardly know where to start."

"Why don't you start at the beginning."

"Well, I guess that would be when Jarl Borg came to invade us."

"I remember, Ragnar took off right away. You were there?"

"Yes, it was terrifying..." Before long I was falling from one story into the next, telling Athelstan of what had happened to us while he was away. It must have been well past midnight when Bjorn came back and Athelstan left for the great hall. I promised to drop by the day after to catch up some more, wanting to hear about his adventures as well. Bjorn and I got to bed, but before I could kiss him goodnight he sat up a bit, leaning against the wall.

"I know it's late, but we still have to talk." I was afraid that was going to be the case.

"You're right. Although you didn't finish that massage..." Bjorn wasn't in the mood for jokes. I nestled myself in his arms, wanting to feel his comfort. "I know what you're thinking. And... The truth is, I don't know how I feel. I just know I want to do this. Not just for Ragnar or for Kattegat, but for us. I love you, and I know things like this are part of being in your life."

"That makes no sense," he said as he brushed over my hair.

"To me it does. I love you for who you are, all of you. And part of who you are is a prince. We either share everything about it, or you'll have to keep me away from all of it. You'll have to do things I don't necessarily like, or approve of, but I would rather be a part of it than be left out. I know how that would turn out."

"That sounds sweet and noble, but it doesn't mean you have to sleep with some other guy."

"It's not just about that guy. I want to prove to myself I am still in this for the long haul. It's about us being able to face whatever will come our way together." I didn't know what else to say. Whatever my gut was telling me, it was telling me to go with it. I didn't want to regret not giving it my all. I could survive whatever it was I had to do with earl Kalf, but losing Bjorn... After seeing how Athelstan was feeling about Judith, I didn't want to lose Bjorn. I didn't want to lose my love, I wanted to keep him as close as possible for as long as I could. I knew that would mean I'd run into some scrapes and bruises.

"The prince in me knows it's for the best, but that's such a small part of who I am. I just... I feel so conflicted about all this."

"I know. I feel the same. And I won't lie, it'll be hard for both of us. It won't get any better, but it will get easier." Bjorn hugged me tightly, his face disappearing in my hair.

"I just hope you're right," he whispered. I moved a bit to face Bjorn, seeing he had a sad look on his face. "Gods, I hope you're right."


	71. Kalf's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22-03-802

As Aslaug and Ragnar were at odds once again over Ivar, the responsibility that fell on my shoulders was even larger. I would not let Ragnar down, not now he needed me. Often the servants had been put to work on something by me before Siggy could even mention it, allowing her to focus on her daughter. The girl had turned into a terror, keeping her and Rollo up at night as her teeth came in. As a result, both were a bit cranky. I knew better than to pick a fight with either of them, and I gave Siggy a little leeway to let her feel like she was still my superior. In many things, she did have more experience than me, and I was eager to learn all about it.

With Kalf's visit fast approaching, Siggy had made me somewhat of a spectacle on many a day she was convinced Kalf would arrive. She had thought everything out down to the subtlest details to make sure I'd make a grand appearance. On the day he actually showed up Siggy had chosen to go all out on my hair, putting in intricate braids. The dress she had forced me in when the bells started ringing seemed just a bit too clean and bright white for my tastes, but it left my back exposed in a more subtle manner than the green one had. Bjorn seemed to like it though, and it was still expected of the vessel of Freyja.

The ship was sighted and we all took our places. Some of the villagers formed a line near the dock, curious to see the anticipated visitors. I steadied myself taking a deep breath, anxious to get it over with. Hvitserk and Ubbe joined us, Sigurd was fussing in my arms. He wanted to walk for himself, but he'd just slow everyone down.

The earl landed on the docks, his retinue following him. For a man looking to see if I'd be his bride, he looked rather smug. Ragnar started towards him, and with a short distance between us, I followed to his left. This would indicate I was not his wife, but still an important person, Siggy had explained to me for the eighth time this week. Bjorn fell in beside me, looking a bit flustered as he quickly joined the procession. He put an arm around me, making sure everyone understood I was his. We'd decided on an ironclad strategy, and now it was time to pull it off.

"Earl Kalf! How good of you to come," Ragnar said.

"Ragnar! How nice to finally meet." They hugged, but I noticed the tension between the two men. Their bodies held a distance in between, despite the friendly gesture. Ragnar had not missed the fact Kalf didn't use the proper title. "I see your children here, but not your wife."

"She has taken ill, I'm afraid. She sends her regards."

"Then the woman holding your child must be the one sent by Freyja. After such a long journey and hearing many tales, I can't wait to see the markings for myself. May I?" He turned his question to me, leaving me an opening. I stepped forward and spoke ever so sweetly.

"Tell me, Earl Kalf. Do you often ask women to undress in public? I can't imagine doing so would lead to the result you desire." Bjorn held back a snicker, barely audible. The earl accepted my hand and kissed my knuckles, his scraggly beard brushing against them. It made for a crude apology, as I wasn't a princess of any kind, and my title wasn't an official one.

"I apologize if I have given offense. I have waited for so long, I can contain myself a little while longer."

"Then let us go inside. Some drinks will surely ease your suffering." As we turned around, Ragnar nodded ever so slightly, indicating he thought I had done well. He was very much aware of what the plan was. It helped ease my tension, and Bjorn's hand on the small of my back made me feel even more secure in my standing.

"Come on boys, back inside," I ushered. They went ahead, walking instead of running as they had been told. We moved into the hall, which was largely empty for the occasion. Ragnar sat down on his throne, I took my place beside Bjorn on Ragnar's right. The boys sat on the dais, out of sight but still present. We remained silent as the servants brought ale. Only when they left, Ragnar spoke.

"So tell me, Earl Kalf. What has brought you here?" All of us knew all too well, even the boys had been told to keep quiet where Kalf could hear. I knew Ubbe was listening in very intently.

"To see the fabled vessel of Freyja, of course!" Kalf tried to play coy, delaying talking of his plans. His eyes took me in, dressed in white, almost as if I were a bride. I wondered if I looked agreeable to him. His eyes didn't tell me shit. I could have been a cow for all he cared.

"The vessel of Freyja has a name. She is called Ragnhild," Ragnar snapped. He was getting tired of Kalf's bullshit already. His fighting with Aslaug had caused him to have little patience.

"You must understand my curiosity. It is not often such an opportunity comes along." He turned to me. "Now we are no longer in public, is it appropriate to ask?" His grin made my skin crawl, but Ragnar might still have need of him. I stepped forward and turned around to show my back. Siggy's foresight had been priceless. I had no desire to take off my dress to show the markings to this stranger as I had shown them to Floki and Ragnar, so the low cut back of the dress was perfect. His fingers roughly moved across my skin, almost as if to make sure the tattoo wouldn't come off. I didn't recoil, but Bjorn noticed my desire to do so.

"It's so clear... I could only hope any markings I put on my body would be of such quality. And the color, I've never seen such perfect black take on anyone's skin." He followed the pattern with his fingers, his touch lingering. I rolled my eyes, showing my discomfort and impatience to Ragnar and Bjorn. As soon as Ragnar spoke, I got away from Kalf.

"Now your curiosity is satisfied, is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"How did she come to live here with you? She takes care of your sons... Very well, it seems." Kalf's eyes shifted to Bjorn. He had not missed Bjorn's arm around me at the docks. Before Ragnar could respond, I did. He still didn't use my name when he spoke of and to me, and I had come to recognize that for what that was. Either Horik must have warned him not to trust me, or he was trying to play a whole different kind of game. He was basically ignoring me, thinking me unworthy of his attention. That was supposed to be my tactic.

"Earl Ragnar took me under his care when all others thought me useless, before the markings were known to either of us. He allowed me to learn our language, showed me kindness, and I made the decision to stay. My earl repays the loyalty shown to him. I can only hope you may one day learn what that is like. Had you come sooner, you might have had a chance to impress me with your charms." Ragnar let out a small laugh as Bjorn put an arm around my waist again. I turned to kiss Bjorn, indicating the feelings were mutual. When I laid my eyes on Kalf again, he seemed to put a lot of effort into keeping a straight face.

"How unfortunate for me, then." He ignored me again. I hadn't expected anything else, after my words. "I wonder if I'm not too late to ask you to join forces when you will go to raid Paris. There are others who would like to join, but they seem reluctant to ask you in person."

"Who would these be?"

"Jarl Borg and King Horik, as well as Earl Ingstad." Ragnar remained silent, shifting back in his throne. I tensed at hearing the Jarl's name, as did Bjorn. Kalf knew the man was still alive, but how? He must have been in contact with Horik, or he had someone who spent the winter here tell him somehow. At the least, Ragnar had his confirmation that Kalf had been in touch with both of them, and apparently a whole new player. I wouldn't have to drag that information out of him, which would make my whole role a lot easier. All of our worries had been for nothing.

"You want to bring on board the man who tried to usurp my title and lands, who threatened me and my family, and a king who will stand above me, as well as someone I have never heard of?" Ragnar spoke in a quiet, calculating tone.

"Your fame has spread far and wide. Everyone wants to join you on your next raid west. And even enemies can turn into allies, given proper motivation." Even I could see through the thinly veiled threat. His face was still placid, but he had such telling eyes. Kalf implied that allies could turn into enemies just as fast, leaving Ragnar open to an invasion of his lands. With two earls and a king standing against him, that would mean Ragnar couldn't go to Paris this summer.

"I can understand the appeal of raiding a city like Paris. Did you know it was Ragnhild who first told me about the city?" Ragnar seemed to play along, for now, trying to fish for more information.

"If Ragnhild told you, that must surely be a sign the gods favor this endeavor," he said as he nodded in my direction. Not wanting to sound too eager, Ragnar chose his words carefully.

"I'll want to meet this... Earl Ingstad, before I will decide on bringing him with us. I'm sure you'll want to rest up after the journey." And easy as that, the meeting was over. Kalf left the hall, his retinue following closely. Siggy came from the back and took the boys away, leaving me and Bjorn with Ragnar. He turned to face me, looking eager.

"You did well, Ragnhild. I'm curious, what did you notice?"

"He seemed too eager to bring Jarl Borg into the fold. The flattery, holding Paris over your head... I would almost think he has met with Jarl Borg and King Horik, and has made plans to get you outnumbered and vulnerable like you thought. I'm not sure why you would even contemplate his offer... Unless you have a brilliant idea of your own. Having Horik come here under the assumption of Borg joining up means he'll take some of the men Borg would bring with him, so your numbers grow when you head for Paris. If you manage to off Borg with Horik's permission before you leave you'd also set an example, strengthening your position as Earl of Kattegat. So, if you indeed have a plan to keep Horik loyal, have Kalf switch over to our side, and to kill Borg in one fell swoop..." I enjoyed laying out my insights but hoped I somehow had impressed Ragnar.

"And what of his attitude towards you?" I hesitated a bit, biting my lip as I did.

"He didn't seem in much of a rush to get me to warm up to him. It might just have been a ruse to get that rumor to you, to see how you'd react... Or he changed his mind."

"Oh, he's still interested," Bjorn scoffed. "That part about enemies turning to allies... He thinks to win you over and become our enemy." I glanced at Bjorn but saw that Ragnar nodded in earnest.

"Then that's a weakness we can exploit." I didn't like what that would entail. So much for my sense of relief. The plan was still on, and the stakes were even higher now.

"So what would you suggest? If you were to have such an elaborate plan as you have described?" Ragnar asked. He had come to the same conclusions. I had been right about most of my insights.

"Call on trusted allies to join a bit sooner than Horik thinks. He's the brains behind all of this, so he's the one you need to focus on. Your allies will ease your plans and make theirs more difficult. Earl Ingstad could shift things, though. If you haven't heard of him, he must not have a large force, or be new to the title making him bold and easily impressed by the presence of a famed earl like you. At any rate, you outshine Horik with ease. Winning Ingstad's loyalty would be a fairly safe bet, gaining you an extra ally at the same time. It would have to be a grand gesture though, not some vague promise. You'll only want him to join if he's smart, and you'll figure that out in a few seconds. If he's useful to you, he will need to see just what the advantage is of aligning himself with you, and not Horik." Only now I noticed the trap Ragnar had set for me. I even had helped set it, with my words about how Ragnar regarded loyalty. Going back on my words now would be a mistake. I didn't know whether to be impressed with Ragnar or mad at him. "And with Kalf still wanting my hand in marriage, and this Ingstad to win over..." Just in a few seconds, Ragnar had found out if I was smart enough and strong enough, to be able to fulfill the role he had in mind for me.

"You're the bait for the trap," Bjorn sighed. "And you'll have to make sure they both get trapped, but Horik can't find out Kalf wants you before it's too late for him to go back on his plan." I'd need to get Kalf to think he had a real shot at being with me, so Horik and he would end up fighting amongst themselves at the right time. That would make Ingstad more likely to join us. With Horik still gone for at least a week or two, I had better start working on a new plan, and fast.

"Then I'd better get to work." Ragnar smiled. He knew I was able to read between the lines, and that I understood what was expected of me. Bjorn's lack of response told me he had known what his father was going to ask of me. I expected he wanted to make sure the choice was mine, as well as allow Ragnar to see for himself if I was up to the task of playing along in the political games that were going on. We'd already been fighting over Kalf when I thought it had just been a ploy to find out of he'd been in touch with Borg, and now this... It explained why Bjorn had been so adamant about me making a decision for myself. He must have known this was coming, or at least must have had an inkling. If I was hesitant over flirting with Kalf, this would have been off the table no matter what.

I needed a moment to myself, and Ragnar was expected to join the festivities. I went to the back out of habit, more than anything. Behind the leather string curtains, Siggy was breastfeeding her daughter. She had heard everything, of course. Bjorn seemed anxious to find out how I'd react.

"Are you really okay with this?"

"Of course I'm not," I said as I watched Sigurd sleep. He clutched the blanket that covered him with his hands. He seemed so peaceful. So unaware of the plotting that went on in front of him. "But I was trapped by my own words. And I think this will turn out to be a good thing for me." Bjorn just seemed more confused. "After all, if you live up to your name, there is every reason to expect you might become earl one day." I just hoped to be able to prove to both Ragnar and Bjorn I was a viable option to become his queen. Bjorn wrapped his arms around me and put his chin on top of my head. He didn't like it any more than I did.

"Then you've made a decision? About that part of our future?" His voice was so vulnerable I didn't dare respond too loudly. He was asking me if I would want to be his queen one day, or if that would be a reason for me to stop wanting to be with him.

"Come what may. I decided on that the day I asked you to move in with me, you do realize that, right?"

"I just haven't heard you say it out loud. I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"Siggy was right, back then with your step-father. This isn't just about me, or you."

"That sounds like you've grown up a lot, over the past moons." I turned around to Siggy, who looked down at Dagmar with a satisfied smile. "What changed?"

"I did." Bjorn inhaled deeply as his hands went over my arms as if to make sure it was really me.

"Whatever it is, I think it's a good thing to happen." I wasn't completely sure if I agreed with her, but she and Bjorn seemed happy enough. I rested my head against Bjorn's chest, wanting to hear his heartbeat. It always managed to calm me down.

"Freyja made the right decision, making you her vessel." His soft voice in my ear made the hairs on my arm stand up. I wasn't too sure about that yet.


	72. A Day In The Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was against such a chapter but as a thank you for all your great comments and many kudos I decided to write this anyway. It's also a celebration of the fact I have written 1 million words in this universe, so I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> This is Hvitserk's POV, describing how his day goes.
> 
> 03-04-802

Today was going to be a good day. I just knew it, because it would end with another story from Ragnhild. She had promised, so that meant it was sure to happen. Ubbe wasn't as eager as me to get up. He pushed me out of the bed, making me rub my hiney.

"Hey, that's mean!"

"Then stop humming, you know I don't like it when you do that."

"But Ragnhild sings to me all the time. She says it's okay."

"Not when I'm trying to sleep. Get out, before I'll kick you, too." I huffed, but it didn't impress him. I went over to Sigurd, who was looking up at me. I'd be a better big brother to him than Ubbe was to me, and then I'd get to be in charge for once, because Sigurd would support me all the time.

"Hurry up, Sigurd. I want to play with you."

"Hvitserk?" Father came walking towards me. He was always up early. "What do you want Sigurd to hurry up with?"

"I want him to grow up faster. I can't play with him when he's so tiny." Father smiled and put a hand on my head.

"I'm sure Sigurd is doing his best for you, but I don't think it will help if you tell him."

"Ragnhild says I should always tell people what I want, so they know. If I don't tell her, she can't tell if I want to eat a carrot or an apple. And if I don't tell Sigurd I want him to grow up faster he might just be a bit slow. So I tell him, so that he knows."

"Did she, now? And do you think your brother will listen?"

"I don't know. I can't always get what I want, she said that too. But I need to make myself heard." Father picked me up. He had that weird smile in his eyes as if he had to do his best not to laugh about something.

"What else has she been telling you?"

"Last night, she told me about a flying boat."

"Again?"

"No, a new one! This one had a talking dog, with six legs, and it was blue. And there was this girl that took care of him, and they almost ended up in a volcano but then the dog saved her. There was a king as well, and he could sing the best of everyone!" Father obviously didn't understand Ragnhild, or her stories. He was looking like I told him about that time Ragnhild blessed Ivar, or when Ragnhild had started to shout at him when Ubbe was sick after eating her sweets.

"Doesn't she tell you of the gods?"

"Sometimes... But I've heard them all. Her stories are new."

"It's not just about hearing of the gods, you need to remember them, so you can pass them on as well." I let out a deep sigh.

"I know that, father. Ragnhild sometimes asks me to tell her a story of the gods, and then Ubbe helps me tell it. Bjorn told her to do that sometimes." That seemed to make him happy again.

"Alright, then. Go get dressed, it's time for you to show me how you've been faring with your shield." Already? Was he going to ask me if I wanted to join him on a raid? Ubbe had whispered about it, how he hoped to be asked to join the next raid. Ragnhild had told him he would have to train hard, so he would at least be able to defend himself. And if I could prove myself to father... I just might be asked to come with before Ubbe was. That would show him.

After breakfast, I was eager to be off, shield in hand, but Father was held up by something boring about supplies. Mother looked worried, but she had Ivar in her arms. That always calmed her down. When father was finally done, there were already plenty of men on the beach. I joined them with my head held high, preparing for the next raid.

Finally, I got to fight father. He was a great warrior, everyone agreed on that. If I could hold my own against him, I'd prove myself once and for all. I was just as good as any of them.

"Well, go on then," father encouraged. "Show me your stance." I braced myself for what was to come. I buried my feet in the sand. He circled around me, pushing a bit on my shoulders, and my knees. I kept on standing, eager to make him proud. He nodded in approval, then called over Sweig.

"I thought I'd be fighting you," I pouted. Father just smirked, then roared as he jumped forward, grabbing hold of my shield. I closed my eyes, but I kept my ground.

"Maybe in a few years." Years... That was, like, forever. "Sweig, you just started on the sword, right? See if you can knock my son to the ground." I felt cheated, but I would show father. I'd knock that boy down so hard, he wouldn't remember his own name.

Sweig started hammering into my shield, but I caught his blows. Just as he lowered his sword I stepped forward myself, throwing my weight behind the shield like Ubbe had shown me. 

He let out a surprised groan, and father took hold of my shield again. I saw Sweig was bleeding from his nose.

"That's quite enough," father told me. He didn't look all that pleased. He took a closer look at Sweig, then sent him off to Vinh. I didn't understand. I did well, I knocked him out of the fight. He was dead now.

"Father?"

"Well done," he whispered. "I didn't realize you were that good already. But it's poor form to tell you in front of the lad." I beamed with pride at his praise.

"Does that mean you'll fight me now?" He put his head to the side a bit. He was thinking.

"You seem to know your way around a shield. Why not? Go fetch two training swords." Like I thought, best day ever! Dropping my shield I ran over to the pile of wooden swords I'd seen Ubbe swing around. I took some time finding the best ones.

"Aren't you a little young for those?" Uncle Rollo came to see what I was doing.

"Father said he'd teach me! I got Sweig a bloody nose, and father said I'd done well."

"You haven't even got your grown teeth."

"That doesn't mean I'm not grown." He chuckled and rubbed his hand through my hair.

"Off you go, then." I dragged the sword behind me, eager to finally fight father.

He showed me how to hold it, and how to move it around. It was heavy, but I did well. Father told me so, and I could block every swing he threw at me, even when he used his other hand to hold his sword. Ragnhild would be so proud as well, I couldn't wait to tell her. By the time my arm grew tired, father lowered his sword.

"You'll be a great warrior," he told me. "Keep practicing, and you'll go raiding with us in no time at all." Best. Day. Ever.

He sent me off after a kiss on my head. I ran off to Ragnhild, but she wasn't home. I knew she had a lot of stuff to do, on the market, and with that earl that had come to visit. I got a mug of water, sitting down at the table for a bit. She wouldn't mind. After I put my mug on the long, low shelf I admired her collection for a bit. She always came back from the market with the strangest things, I couldn't even find all that stuff whenever I went there.

The chest called out to me. I didn't mean to, but the lid opened. And then my hands found the blanket, and I couldn't stop touching it. It held so many colors, and so many secrets. 

Before I knew it, I spread it out on the table. I sighed as I touched the wings. They were beautiful. Just like Ragnhild.

I knew what it meant to be beautiful, as a person. Some of the grown-ups would talk of beautiful women, and when they started naming a few women, they would always mention Ragnhild as well. They thought her hair was like honey, but they were wrong. It was like sunshine, and nice dreams. And they would say her chest was beautiful, but I couldn't really see the appeal of ribs. Maybe it had something to do with the soft pillows she had on top.

Her stories were beautiful as well, and they were a part of her, too. The only thing the men were right about was about her smile. That was like a day like today. It made you feel warm inside, and fuzzy, and happy. 

Most of her smiles, not all of them. Some were sad, or painful. Those didn't touch her eyes. But since Bjorn had moved in those were getting less and less. 

There were more beautiful smiles now, and I liked those. I was a bit jealous of Bjorn, getting to live with Ragnhild. I sometimes wanted that, too. He got to hear stories from her all the time, I was sure of it.

"It looks like I'm being burgled." Ragnhild was looking at me from the door opening.

"Ragnhild!" I jumped up. "Ragnhild, I got to fight father today! He showed me how to use a sword, and I caught all of his blows! It was so amazing!" She gasped.

"Already? Wow, you must have really made an impression on Ragnar. I'm so happy for you, well done little man." She gave me a beautiful smile, all for me.

"Ragnhild must really trust you, Hvitserk." I hadn't noticed she had come in with the earl. I forgot his name.

"She does. I get to come here whenever I want to, as long as I don't leave a mess. But not when it's past dinner time, or before breakfast. Then I have to knock first." The earl gave Ragnhild a strange look.

"Something to drink?"

"Ale, if you have it." She got to work, moving like she was fighting. From what I remembered, she always moved like that, not a movement out of place. She'd be a fine warrior, if she'd ever want to hold a sword, I could tell. I would teach her if she wanted to learn.

"I forgot your name," I said to the earl.

"It's Kalf. Earl Kalf." Oh, right. I sat down at the table, looking at the blanket again. "So this is it..." Kalf's eyes showed the same wonder as I felt. He was impressed. "It's beautiful." He touched the wings as well. I liked him, he liked the same things as me. The blanket, fighting, Ragnhild, we would be friends. And more importantly, Ragnhild liked Kalf. That alone was good enough for me. She was only friends with special people, like me and my brothers.

"Hvitserk loves it so much, I bet that if I offered him to sleep underneath it, he would." My eyes lit up.

"Can I?" Ragnhild just shook her head, laughing. She was beautiful again. Kalf saw it as well.

"What do you like best?" Kalf asked me. "On the blanket."

"Everything. But if I have to pick, it's the wings. And the colors. And that bird there, I had a dream once that it was Huginn."

"I hadn't even seen the bird yet... It does look like a raven. For all we know it could be one of Odin’s." I touched the wings again, softly stroking them.

"Does it live up to your expectations?" Ragnhild asked.

"More than that. I can see why little Hvitserk pulled it out to see it again. It's a marvel to behold." Kalf wasn't looking at the blanket when he said that last part. He was looking at Ragnhild. She saw it, too.

"I'm not little anymore,” I pouted. ”I got to fight with a sword today. I'll be going on raids, soon." Kalf mussed up my hair. Grown-ups liked doing that, for some reason.

"You'll be just as strong as your father." Kalf turned back to Ragnhild and they talked about the lake, and how she came here. I'd heard it all before.

"Ragnhild, I have to go now. Ubbe is waiting for me. It was nice to see you again, earl Karl."

"Have fun."

"And remember, tonight another story, right?"

"I wouldn't dream of missing it. See you then, little man." With a smile I left, heading home. I saw Bjorn there, he was talking to Torstein about the coming raid. I really hoped I could have come along.

"Well, look who it is!" Bjorn put a hand on my shoulder. "Torstein, did you hear? We'll have no more worries soon."

"Is that so?" Bjorn nudged me a little, prompting me to tell of my fierceness in battle.

"I got to fight with a sword today, and father told me I would be a great warrior, like him, and Bjorn."

"Is that true? I thought you were still working on your shield." I motioned for him to come closer.

"I hit Sweig in the nose and it started bleeding, and then father said he was proud of me." Torstein chuckled and mussed my hair as well. I rubbed over my head, not wanting my hair to stand up all the time.

"Frida's boy. He'll be alright. Hvitserk, do you happen to know where Ragnhild is?"

"She's at home, with that earl Kals. She was showing him the blanket." Bjorn's hand squeezed a bit, then let go. "He's nice. Ragnhild likes him, too."

"I'm sure she does." Bjorn and Torstein gave each other a weird look. I didn't really understand, Bjorn and Ragnhild were friends, and Ragnhild was friends with Kals, so why didn't Bjorn and Kals get along?

"Ubbe's waiting for me." I went on again, to the back. Ubbe had told me last night he wanted to show me something cool. He was already waiting for me on our bed.

"There you are. Where were you? I told you to come here after training."

"I went to Ragnhild for a bit. I got to fight with a sword today."

"I saw you knock out that Sweig with your shield. It was okay."

"I used that move you showed me. Father was very impressed."

"Then it was awesome. Come on, let's go." Ubbe went out through the back, leaving me to follow.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere secret. Don't tell anyone about it, even Ragnhild." I never kept secrets for her.

"Why not?"

"Because she'll get worried. I don't want her to feel like she has to watch over us all the time." Ubbe took me to the mountain, we followed the trail that ran beside it for a bit. "Here it is." I looked up, seeing nothing in particular. Ubbe moved aside some branches, revealing steps.

"What's so special about it?" Ubbe signaled for me to follow behind the branches.

"If you follow these steps, you'll end up on the top of the mountain."

"But that's dangerous."

"It's exciting! You wanna go up?"

"You'll just push me again, like this morning." I sat down on the bottom step, not going anywhere. Ubbe sat down beside me, looking a bit sad.

"I'm sorry I did that. I wasn't angry at you."

"It hurt."

"Father said I couldn't come to Paris. I've been training a lot, and I can defend myself just fine." I could understand how he would get mad about that.

"I thought Father would ask me to come with him."

"You're even younger than me. I'll go before you."

"Not if I'm better than you."

"You haven't even started on the axe yet, or the bow. You're too small to stand in the shield wall."

"I just want to be a man, like Brother."

"Me, too." We sat for a bit, watching the branches sway in the wind.

"Why doesn't Bjorn like Kars?" I looked up at Ubbe. He always knew more than me about these things.

"Kalf. I don't know. I heard them fighting yesterday. Ragnhild sounded really angry."

"Why would she be angry with brother?"

"They were shouting about how she was spending so much time with Kalf. I think brother might be jealous."

"But why? He's not jealous of us." Ubbe scoffed. He did that a lot, lately.

"Because we're his brothers. You do know that Bjorn and Ragnhild are together, right?"

"Yeah, they live in the same house. Does Kalf want to live there as well?"

"You're dumb if you think that. Brother would never allow it. He doesn't want Kalf touching Ragnhild like he gets to touch her."

"Like, on her chest?"

"Among other things." Ubbe was smiling a bit, for some reason. "Girls and boys get to touch each other when they're naked, but only when they're grown up. Torstein told me about it."

"Why would they want to do that?"

"Because it feels good. Torstein told me it was the best feeling in the world. Especially a woman's breasts, and between her legs." Some things were starting to make sense.

"Is that why they always say Ragnhild's chest is so beautiful?"

"Yeah. And girls have this hole between their legs, where we can put our wieners."

"Ew! That's gross." That's where pee came from.

"We're too young for that, too. Torstein said that we first have to learn how to treat a woman right. They don't just let us poke it in if we ask."

"How does it even look down there?"

"I don't know. But all sorts of wonderful things happen there. First you poke it in, and then sometimes a baby comes out. But you have to do it just right."

"I know brother wants to have babies. Do you think he knows how to do it?"

"Of course he does. He's a man. And he's together with Ragnhild, so they will have a baby soon. Mother says it could be a while, but I'm sure Bjorn can do it."

"Do you know how it works?" Ubbe sat up a bit, looking proud of himself for knowing.

"I heard about it. You have to poke it in, and then move on top of each other like father and mother used to do. And when the woman starts to moan, and the man then moans as well, you could end up with a baby. But you have to practice, like, a lot. It's like a weapon, Torstein said. You have to train with it."

"It sounds a bit dangerous."

"No, it's a good weapon. Like, you don't kill anyone with it, it's just for fun. And if you're lucky, you can do it with two women at the same time."

"Is that why Bjorn is jealous? Because Kalf wants to poke his wiener in Ragnhild? I saw them today, he was looking at her all the time."

"I think so. Father and mother have been fighting about sex, so maybe Ragnhild and brother have as well. If you're together you're not supposed to poke another woman. The gods don't like it." Then it was nothing I would ever do. Everyone knew you didn't mess with the gods.

"I still think it's gross. If I ever find a woman to poke it in, I'd rather have her tell me stories. Like Ragnhild."

"You can't poke it in Ragnhild. That's just disgusting."

"Why?"

"Well, she's with Bjorn. And you only poke a woman you like."

"I like Ragnhild..."

"Not the same as Bjorn likes her. They love each other, like father and mother. He loves her hair, and her chest, and her stories..." Those were all things I loved about her as well. "They will get married, someday."

"I want to marry her, too." Ubbe started laughing. "What? I want to wake up and have her tell me stories, and then again before I fall asleep. And she'll take care of me, and I will protect her. I'm really good with my shield already."

"She can't marry you if she's married to Bjorn. You'll have to find another woman. Besides, she takes care of us. I just can't imagine poking her one day." The whole poking thing didn't make much sense. We didn't have to do that if I didn't want to, and Ragnhild would love me all the same. She told me she would always love me, so it was true.

"You don't need to poke someone if you don't want to. And you can love someone without having to poke them."

"That's just stupid. If you really love a woman, you have to take care of her. Then you have to poke her every once in a while, or she'll get mad. And if the woman doesn't want to get poked the man will get mad. So you have to."

"That's stupid."

"It isn't. It's very important to take care of a woman like that."

"Then mother should let father poke her again. But then she would have to put down Ivar." Ubbe scowled at the mention of our brother.

"Ivar should have been left to the wolves. Ragnhild made a mistake when she blessed him." Ubbe was wrong about that.

"It wasn't! Ragnhild did just fine!"

"She did. You know everyone makes mistakes, even the gods. Ragnhild is no different."

"She is," I insisted. "And if she makes a mistake she apologizes."

"Not this time. It's because of Ivar that mother's so nervous. And that's why Ragnhild takes care of us all the time."

"I don't mind..."

"Mother is supposed to take care of us, Ragnhild is only supposed to help out a bit. Did you know Sigurd calls her mother? Father doesn't even care, I asked him and he told me that Ragnhild is doing just fine taking care of him."

"I like her stories better... And Ragnhild told me it will get better when Ivar's a bit older." I didn't mind her taking care of us. It meant I got to see her almost every day.

"It's not how it's supposed to be. Ragnhild should be worried about getting children of her own, Brother said so."

"She can do both. You'll see." Ubbe threw a pebble at the branches, then another.

"Her stories are better," he admitted. "And she will change our fate. The gods sent her here, so there must be a good reason for her to do what she does. I'm just worried about what will happen when they all go to Paris. Then we'll have to stay here with just Ragnhild, and mother, and Siggy."

"Why are you worried?"

"Because Ragnhild needs Bjorn. He's the reason she can be this strong, she told me once. Without him, she feels lost."

"But she'll be here. How can she be lost?"

"It's different. Like, she needs him to know what she's doing is right. And when he holds her in his arms, she feels safe and strong. That's why she loves brother, he makes her feel invincible. And when he's gone she will miss him, and feel sad, and worried. She thinks he might die."

"But I don't want her to go with them." I knew some women went along, like Helga. She couldn't miss Floki for that long, and she liked going with.

"It's different. But I'd miss her too. Life was just boring before she came here." I couldn't remember a life before her stories. She had trouble talking at first, and she had switched around words and had asked us how to pronounce things. Some people said she still talked a bit funny, but I couldn't hear it anymore.

"She wouldn't leave us behind."

"I hope so... Just imagine, having Siggy take care of us. And mother worrying over Ivar all the time, and Sigurd... We would be bored out of our minds."

"But Siggy has to take care of Dagmar." Ubbe frowned.

"You're right. We'd have to take care of ourselves. Father would never allow it."

"Ragnhild won't let us down." I was sure of it. Even Ubbe didn't fight me on this.

"Come on, let's go back. We'll climb the mountain another time." We walked back in silence. Back home, mother was nursing Ivar again.

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," I heard Mother say. Father was standing next to her, his back turned on us. Ubbe pulled me back by my arm, putting a finger to his lips.

"I can't exactly tell them to go and come back in a few weeks."

"They're eating through most of our supplies, and they're dirty." Father looked annoyed.

"When we come back from Paris we won't have any problems refilling our stores." Again with the supplies... How could that ever be interesting?

"It's not like Ragnhild is capable of doing her part. She's cracking." I scowled, Ragnhild could do anything.

"She's doing just fine. If anything, her fighting with Bjorn tells me they are taking it seriously, and the more it happens, the more Kalf thinks he stands a chance."

"You're putting too much trust in her. You can't rely on her the way you do, it'll go wrong and then we'll be forced to flee town again. How do you think that will go, with four small children?"

"It's you who can't handle this. She's better than you at this, without even trying." Mother gasped as father walked away. Ubbe looked troubled. He looked like he was trying to be an adult again.

"Mother?" She looked up at her name.

"Oh, hello. When did you come in? You know I don't like it when you use that door. It's for the slaves."

"We just came back. Are you okay?"

"Just fine, Ivar's eating. What are you up to?" Ubbe sat down next to her, trying to contain a scowl. I joined them on mother's other side.

"Nothing, really. Just a walk." I touched Ivar's fingers. He was getting big, but he still couldn't walk.

"Careful, Hvitserk. You don't want to break his bones, do you?"

"No, mother." I sat on my hands, leaning into her instead. "I got to fight with a sword today."

"Really... Your father didn't mention wanting to teach you."

"I asked, and then he told me to get two swords. I did well, he told me so."

"I saw it. He's ready," Ubbe said. Mother let out a deep sigh. She always worried like that.

"Can I hold him?" Mother looked down at me. "I'll be really careful."

"He's still feeding. Maybe later."

"But you're always feeding him, or holding him yourself."

"You know he needs me more than you do. You're grown, and you're strong. Ivar's still a baby."

"Okay..."

"Come on, Hvitserk. Let's see what's for dinner tonight." I got up again, looking at my little brother a last time.

"You need to hurry up, too. Then we'll play all day." Ubbe dragged me off to the hall. Brother was drinking from a huge horn, sitting with Torstein and Floki. Ubbe dragged me to them as if he already had forgotten about the food.

"Well if it isn't the two boys who will conquer the world someday!" Floki mussed our heads and invited us to come join them. I didn't mind as much when he messed up my hair, with him, it was a joke. He always made jokes.

"Where did father go?" Ubbe asked.

"You saw him leave?" Bjorn gave a calculating look.

"Yeah, we walked in on them. We heard most of it." I kept quiet, staring at the table. They would say more soon, and then I would understand.

"What was it about this time?" Floki asked. "We only heard him cursing."

"About Ragnhild, and Kalf. Mother was upset about it."

"She said something about it being dirty," I remembered. "Does she think father's wiener is dirty? Is that why they don't do the poking thing anymore?" All four of them stared at me. Then they all started laughing. "What? Is it something I said?" 

Floki put a hand on my shoulder. He was trying to wipe the tears from his eyes, smudging his kohl. He tried to look me in the eye, but then started laughing again.

"This is why I like spending time with you sons of Ragnar," Floki wheezed. "That was the best joke I have heard in a long time, little Hvitserk." Brother was still trying to hide his smile like Father did earlier.

"How do you even know about the poking?" Torstein asked.

"Ubbe told me, and he heard it from you." Bjorn put an elbow to Torstein's ribs, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I told you to keep silent about that," Torstein told Ubbe.

"Well, Hvitserk told me he wants to marry Ragnhild!" I pouted, not liking how he had told everyone my secret.

"Everyone does," Brother said with a sigh, then took a large drink again.

"I don't want to do the poking thing with her." Ubbe was only telling half the story. "I just want her to tell me stories every night before I fall asleep. And when I wake up."

"I've heard you talk about her stories a few times before," Torstein said. "What could you even learn from those? They're not about the gods."

"Well, last night it was about Ohana. That means family. And that means no one is left behind, or forgotten."

"That sounds sensible. What was it about?"

"A blue dog with six legs, and a volcano, and a spaceship."

"It was better than it sounds," Ubbe said. "I liked it, too. There's always something to think about in her stories."

"She's going to tell us a new one tonight. About a princess who was locked in a tower and then -"

"Nonsense!" Torstein banged his horned mug on the table. "She should be telling you of the gods and battle. Those are the important ones." Brother put a hand on Torstein's shoulder.

"She tells them fine stories, don't worry. They may be different, but they hold the same truths."

"Well, the one about Aelle was pretty good..."

"She tells them of the gods as well, she knows how important that is." Torstein calmed down a bit. "But enough about my woman, how are yours doing?" Torstein drank what was left of his horn.

"They're getting on each other's nerves, and somehow they have banded together against me. I swear, women... If one of the children doesn't keep me awake, it's them."

"I did warn you," Floki said. Torstein made an ugly face.

"You don't know what it's like to have two babes in the house. Trust me, Bjorn, you're better off waiting a few more years."

"I might not have a choice," Brother said with a sigh. "I don't know what will happen, but I fear the Seer was right. She's more than I bargained for."

"What makes you say that?"

"Before Yol, we..." He moved around a little and looked a little uncertain. It was strange to see Brother like this.

"Bjorn.” Floki put a hand on the table as if he could pull it out of Brother.

"I don't even understand it myself. Bygul showed her things I didn't even think were possible. I hardly got started before she started yelling at me."

"Really, now?" Floki giggled, but I didn't understand why. How could a marking show Ragnhild anything?

"What happened?" Ubbe was at least as curious as I was.

"You don't even know what we're talking about," Brother said. He looked annoyed, for some reason.

"Then tell me. I'm old enough."

"Not for this, you're not. Don't you have anything better to do than hear us talk of our women?"

"I'll find out on my own." Ubbe got up and dragged me along.

"I'll be drowning in babies, if I'm right. It's just, how she ..."

"Brother's being stupid," Ubbe said.

"You want to be stupid, too." He turned around, looking angry. "You want to be old."

"So do you."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"You're pretending to be Brother again."

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"You're stupid!" Ubbe walked away before I could tell him he was the stupid one. I went outside and went back to Ragnhild's house.

Kalth was still there, but Ragnhild got up when I came inside.

"Hvitserk? What's wrong?" She just knew it, like she knew everything.

"Ubbe was stupid and he yelled at me."

"What did you fight about?"

"He was doing that thing again. He's not brother." She stroked my hair as I held onto her. She was soft and warm.

"I still have to go to the market. Do you want to come?" I nodded against her stomach. She always knew where to find the best things, and some of the people there would give me something to eat.

"I'll take that as my cue to leave. Thank you, for a lovely day." Kalth left after messing up my hair again. I let go of her and watched as she cleared the table, then got her bag.

The market wasn't as busy in the afternoon, and as soon as we got there Ragnhild got called to one of the stands. The man was selling furs.

"How was the harvest?" Ragnhild asked.

"Bountiful indeed. He found what you are looking for." I stroked the different kinds of furs he had on display.

"Will he share his wealth?"

"Not yet. Something is keeping him back."

"Like what?"

"There's been a storm in the south, he might just share with his new friends."

"Really..."

"The storm barely passed. It's too early to tell how the seeds will grow." Ragnhild shook the man's hand. I thought I saw a coin in between their fingers, but I couldn't be sure. Why would she even hand him one if she didn't buy anything?

"Come on, Hvitserk. Time to get going." I tore my eyes off the bearskin and followed after her.

"What were you talking about?"

"Oh, just the supplies. We'll need to refill the stocks soon."

"It didn't sound boring."

"My life is plenty boring. With you in it, I hardly need any other adventures." The next stall was one of my favorites. The man raised up his hand and had a piece of sausage ready for me as soon as we got there.

"Good to see you again. How's life?"

"Pleasantly boring. Do you have some more of that dried sausage you had last time? With the garlic?"

"How much?"

"Two will do." The man bent down and got her two sausages that looked way better than the ones he had on display. "You spoil me, Eirik. How's the east?"

"Rather cold, as always. All kinds of storms abrew, and plenty of people looking to get into a fight. Ever heard of Vestfold?"

"Can't say I have."

"The earl is making quite a name for himself."

"I'll be sure to hear more of this earl, then." Ragnhild paid him for the sausages. He was really glad about it, and we went on our way again.

"Why was he so happy you paid him?" I looked up at her, wondering why she was talking so funny with all the men.

"Because I gave him a little extra. He's been gathering up the courage to ask this woman to marry, and I heard he got robbed when he was in Alabu. He lost so much he needs to work hard to give her a decent mundr." I wondered how much Ragnhild would get from brother if they married. I knew it was expensive to get married.

"How do you know so many people?"

"Most of them have been coming here since before I was a slave. Do you remember that?"

"That's like forever ago."

"Siggy would sometimes take me here and have me carry her things or would make me pick up stuff. I did more than tell you stories back then." We got to the next stall where the lady was really nice and gave me a bit of cheese. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I didn't mind. Ragnhild was here, there was cheese, I was okay. Today was getting better again.

We went past a few more stalls, but Ragnhild told all of them I'd had enough snacks for the day. It was getting late, anyway.

Ubbe was still mad at me when we sat down for dinner. Father and mother were busy talking about the supplies again. I leaned into Ragnhild, who was trying to get Sigurd to eat something. She came over a lot, but she barely talked to me this time. She was busy talking to Karg again.

"Are you not hungry? You had such a big day today." I looked up from my food. Ragnhild was looking at my plate.

"I'm bored."

"Well, you still have to eat." I ate some of the beans to make her happy. "What's bothering you?"

"Ubbe told me you were fighting with brother." He kicked at me under the table.

"Sometimes we disagree, but it's nothing serious. We already made up." I wanted to ask her more, but Ubbe kicked me again.

"Stop that!" For some reason, he looked just as angry as me.

"You stop it!"

"Boys!" Mother gave us both a warning look.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" I ate two more beans until Ragnhild turned away again.

"You can't talk about that with strangers," Ubbe whispered.

"What strangers?"

"Kalf. He's not from around here."

"But Ragnhild likes him." Father and Ragnhild talked in front of strangers all the time, why couldn't I? I had to learn how to do that, father had said something like that a while back.

"Just don't ask personal questions when he's around, okay?"

"But why?"

"Just don’t." I finished my beans so I wouldn't have to talk to Ubbe anymore. Ragnhild gave me a beautiful smile again when she saw my plate was empty. The servants cleared away the plates and cleaned the table. The rest was standing up but I kept seated.

"What is it, little man?" Father sat down next to me. "I thought you would be happy all day after we fought. Is something wrong?"

"Ubbe is being mean. He told me I can't ask questions when there are strangers. But Kal isn't a stranger. Ragnhild likes him."

"He's not family. That's the difference. Some things you keep in the family, like when your brother and Ragnhild are fighting."

"But Floki knows a lot, too. And brother was talking about it with Torstein. Something about babies, and honey."

"Honey?"

"Yeah. I didn't really get it."

"If you ever have questions about how your brother and Ragnhild are doing, just ask them when there is only family around." I glanced around and saw it was just me and father.

"Are you fighting with mother?"

"We always fight about one thing or another. It's nothing serious." I wanted to ask him more, but he already got up. "How about we fight again tomorrow?" I knew it. This day was great, and tomorrow would be even better!

"Can't we do it now?" Father smiled, then kissed me on the head.

"I have some important things to do, but it gladdens me to see you so eager. You'll be a great warrior one day."

"I'll be the best! Maybe Ubbe wants to train with me!" I ran off to find my brother. He was playing a game of Tafl with Torstein, and he was getting beat.

"I don't get it, usually I win! How did you get so good?" Seeing Ubbe this frustrated made me smile.

"Usually I let you win." I tried to keep my laugh in when I saw Ubbe was surprised. "I told you to keep what I shared to yourself. I'll be in trouble now, even more so when your babysitter finds out. Sit down, Hvitserk. I only told your brother because he was pestering me. Bjorn told me to make sure you know it's something only adults do or talk about." Ubbe tried to win the game, but Torstein kept beating him. "Just because you think you're an adult doesn't mean you are. You don't have your arm rings yet, and if the gods are good that will be a few years still. Don't grow up too fast, or you'll get stuck with two wives who keep nagging you to earn more money. Is that understood?"

"But you said doing it with two women was even better." Ubbe tried to kick me again, but this time I was ready.

"Ubbe! I told you that you were too young to hear about it, and you tricked me into telling you. And then you share it with Hvitserk?"

"I'm old enough to hear about it," I huffed.

"You have disappointed me, and disrespected me. Now, what would Ragnhild tell you to do in such a case?" She would tell him he needed to apologize and try to do better next time.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to share it with someone. I always share everything with Hvitserk." Torstein looked at me now, and I was worried he might yell at me now. I used the face that always worked on Ragnhild when I asked her for another story.

"Don't tell her about any of it, understood? I prefer my balls to be attached."

"But I always tell her everything."

"If you won't tell her this, I'll... I'll tell you a story. How about that?"

"What kind of a story?"

"About anything you want. How about that one where Thor dresses up as a woman? Or about the Mead of Poetry? All of it?" The part about Kvasir was awesome, and I liked how Odin made the Mead for the bad poets... But Ragnhild was always so happy when I told her about my day.

"He's trying to get you to keep quiet," Ubbe told me.

"I'm trading one favor for another. Keep out of this, Ubbe. This is all your fault, to begin with."

"I'll think on it." That's what Ragnhild always said when she wasn't ready to give an answer yet. I needed to think about this.

"You'll think on it? What's there to think about? Do you want to hear a story from me or not?"

"But I always tell Ragnhild everything."

"He's worried he'll have to lie to her," Brother said.

"It's not lying, it's keeping a secret. Gods, I can't believe I'm negotiating with a child... Listen, I have to get home but I would consider it a great favor if you don't tell her anything about me being behind this. I'll tell you a story if she hasn't sought me out in a few days. Is that okay?"

"I guess so..." Torstein got up and left Ubbe to clear away the Tafl pieces.

"Will you tell her?" I didn't know. "She told me that it's okay to keep a secret to yourself if it's really important. You don't have to tell her everything about everything. Like about the mountain."

"Will you get in trouble when I tell?"

"Yeah." I didn't want him to get in trouble for that.

"Then I won't tell. Not on purpose."

"Thanks."

"But only if you stop kicking me all the time. Or I'll tell Ragnhild about that, too."

"I had to get you to shut up. You can't tell strangers about what happens in the family."

"You didn't have to kick me. You promised not to do that anymore."

"You just don't understand."

"You kicked me."

"How about we play a game? I'll let you win this time." He was already putting the pieces back on the board. "Do you want to be the king?"

"You be the king, but you start."

"But that's not... Okay." I took Torstein's place and watched Ubbe move his first piece. I moved one in the opposite direction immediately.  
Ragnhild joined us by the time I was about to win for the second time.

"I still don't know how you can understand such a game. You'll have to explain it to me one day," she said as I enclosed Ubbe's king. "Come on, time for bed." I let Ubbe clear away the board as Torstein had done, and he didn't say anything about it. I followed Ragnhild to the back where she cleaned up a bit as I brushed my teeth. When I crawled into bed she sat down next to me and smiled.

"Don't keep me waiting! I want to hear about the princess with the long hair!"

"Oh, it's a wonderful tale indeed..." She told me of a special flower, that had drunk a drop of sunlight, and how the princess grew up in a tower and was kept locked inside until she escaped. It was a long one, and just as amazing as Ragnhild had promised it would be. But when she was done, I still wondered about something.

"Ragnhild?" She always smiled when she had told a good story.

"What is it?"

"Why did brother look so sad today?"

"Well, there could be a number of reasons."

"Did you fight about that Kaj guy again?" Her smile turned sad.

"Kalf. What did you hear?" I shrugged my shoulders. "It's not that big of a deal. Grown-ups fight all the time, and then we talk, and we make up."

"Father and mother never make up." She sighed.

"I'm not sure what to tell you, little man." I didn't know what to say, either. "I'm not sure what's going on between your parents. But I can tell you Bjorn and I will be fine. You'll see."

"I like Kalf, but I don't want him to poke you. Bjorn knows how to do it right, so you'll have a baby soon." Ragnhild must have been surprised I knew about these kinds of things. "It's okay, I heard all about it. You'll see, brother will give you a baby."

"I'm sure the gods will bless us with a child soon..."

"As long as you're still able to tell me stories."

"I'll do my best, as always." She kissed me on the forehead and brushed my hair from my face. "It's growing long."

"I want it to be longer."

"Then I'll just trim off the ends for you. It'll grow faster that way."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sometimes we have to do things that don't make sense to get where we want to go. Now get to sleep, I'll see what your brother is up to. He's up next." She kissed me on the head and left to go find Ubbe. I turned around and closed my eyes. I’d get to hear the story again that way.

No day was ever bad when Ragnhild made sure I went to bed. If Ubbe was right and I couldn’t marry Ragnhild, I’d find another woman who could tell me stories like that.


	73. Waterfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04-04-802

"What are you thinking about?" My eyes shot up to meet Kalf's, the most curious hazel brown eyes I'd seen in a long time. There was a flicker of doubt in them, just a flash of uncertainty. That needed to die down fast.

"I'm so sorry," I said with an easy smile. "I was just thinking back to our Yol celebration, there was this moment the bonfire was hit with a gust of wind and it looked like the sky was lit up, and just now the waterfall did the same thing, but with water. It's silly, really. Don't mind me, I've got this tendency to notice small things and think the world of them."

"Really, now?" Kalf smirked a bit. "I hadn't noticed yet. I've never known someone to appreciate the small things in life the way you do."

"We have a saying, where I'm from. If you can't appreciate the small things, you're not worthy of the big ones."

"That sounds like something a Christian would say."

"Trust me, they stole it. They always do that. It's an ancient wisdom that has been around longer than their faith."

"How can you know?"

"I just do," I said with a smile and a shrug. "Not that long ago there used to be pagans in England."

"I figured you might know more of the gods than anyone else I'd ever meet." I thought back to how much Bjorn had taught me about them over the past few moons. At the least, I now understood how the gods could mean so much to these people.

"The gods are a huge part of our lives. Who could ever hope to deny their might?" Kalf scooted over, sitting even closer to me on the soft grass. I looked down at my toes, feeling a little uncomfortable as I wiggled them between the grass.

"The gods are good, indeed, if they brought you here." Kalf's voice almost sounded like a prayer. I cast him a curious glance.

"I wouldn't know. Have you some idea as to why they might have sent me here?"

"Did you not play a part in the Yol celebrations? Is that not a clear sign you have been sent here to guide our people?" He was quick to assume I thought the Viking were one people.

"I merely made sure the sacrifices were all the right ones," I said with a dismissive gesture. I didn't like thinking back to how I'd been charged with picking out the animals to die, and washing them, blessing them, and then having to see Ragnar slit their throats from very close behind him.

"Still, if Ragnar trusts you like that..."

"He trusts in the gods, and me by extension."

"He trusts you with his son. Do you not live in the same house? Are you not happy with him?" There was an urgency to his questions, a hope I'd tell him no.

"Only the gods know if Bjorn and I are destined to marry." It was a feeble attempt at keeping it to a vague answer, which Kalf gladly pointed out.

"And do you not know better than anyone what the gods want?"

"Not where I am concerned," I said honestly. "I know a lot about helping others, and what will probably be good for them, but I cannot know what the future holds for myself. Only time will tell."

"Forgive me for saying so, but you almost sound lonely."

"Forgive me for not dignifying that with a response." Kalf frowned, shortly, quickly, as if I'd stepped on his toes. "I don't like to dwell on uncertainty. I'd much rather hear you tell of... Anything, really. What do your lands look like? Tell me about Hedeby." He let out a soft chuckle as I lowered myself back into the grass.

"It's a fortified town, on top of a hill."

"Really? Are there so many enemies around you need to fence yourself from?"

"It was built once to keep predators out, there are lots of wolves around. As the port to the east grew, so did the population. The woods are drawn back by quite a distance since the wall was built, and now the wolves I must concern myself with are an entirely different breed."

"Wolves make fine bed furs, if I may say so." Kalf laughed out loud, a pleasant sound that echoed against the stone cliff and water.

"I'm not speaking of the furry kind, to be sure." I had heard some rumblings, but it wasn't my plan to ask about his political position.

"Then tell me of the market. A large port means you must have a large market."

"Indeed," he said with a smile. He turned to lie on his stomach, looking down at me as he rested on his elbows. "We trade with all of Scandinavia. There are all kinds of furs, not just wolves. We have bears, and lynx, deer, elk, moose, whatever you could desire. There's fine jewelry, and herbs, and cloth..."

"Then what about the leather? I've found a man who does wonders, he managed to make me quite the item, that was almost completely black."

"Black? Why would you want to wear anything like that? You look far more lovely wearing colors. That blue makes you look ravishing."

"Oh, who knows when I'll need to sneak around. Black is always useful to have." And very good for my confidence. Bjorn had thought it weird to see me in those pants the first few time, but they did make my butt look amazing. He had told me so plenty of times.

"If you were serious about sneaking around you'd pick dark colors with earthen tones. It's what the scouts always wear for a reason," Kalf pointed out.

"Really? I didn't know that." I did.

"Sneaking around is all about deception. The best way to hide is to be in plain sight." He knew nothing of true sneaking. Out of sight, out of mind. It was about more than camouflage, as far as I was concerned. He was an amateur.

"You make it sound like you have done your fair share of sneaking around yourself, earl Kalf." He recognized a jab when I made them.

"I have been on many raids, and I've only recently become an earl. The previous one, Sigvard, he was insane. He kept killing his wives, and after he killed my sister, I killed him."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. I didn't know." He cocked his head in bemusement.

"Why do you apologize?"

"It's... Something from back home, I suppose. I'm sorry to hear you had to lose your sister like that." As far as he was concerned, all of my quirks were still funny and endearing, not potential ways to piss off the gods.

"I warned her not to marry him, but she was drawn in by his riches and the promise of a better life. Then he had her raped and beaten when she didn't give him an heir within a year. She died from her wounds."

"You were right to kill him, then. No pig like that should be in charge of anything. You made the world a better place."

"I'd heard rumors you had your own hardships..." He baited me. He wanted to get to a feeling of what part of the rumors about me were true.

"I did. But that's all in a previous life."

"If you don't want to talk about it..."

"It was horrible, but I got past it. The man who was responsible is now dead, and I've moved on."

"There's a rumor going around you killed him yourself." I chuckled at that.

"Do I look like the type that could kill anyone? I cry whenever I see a goat sacrificed. Don't believe everything you hear."

"I'd rather not underestimate just what you are capable of." He knew I was more than just a woman with a fancy title. I had to tread carefully.

"You heard about Ari," I sighed. "King Horik isn't too pleased with me about that..."

"I think you did a wonderful thing." I slowly turned to face him, noticing he was staring past me, his eyes focused on the waterfall to my left. "The boy was unfit to rule. You had to make a hard choice, but you made the right one. Just because Horik misunderstood you doesn't mean you should be held responsible." Now, this was interesting...

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Horik is always prattling on about the truth of the gods, the darker, true ones. He doesn't realize the gods are not as fickle as he thinks they are." I grew a little uneasy now that I knew there was a large point of strife between the two, and what it meant. These two were dependent on each other, they didn't want to be allies. Ragnar would want to hear about this.

"Again I ask, what makes you say that?" Kalf turned on his back and sat up, sitting so close we might as well have touched.

"You do. Are you not the woman who stood up to a king on behalf of an unborn child? Did you not guide Ari to his fate? Was letting him try his luck elsewhere not kinder than watching him get killed by his father? Horik received his just punishment, his intentions were clear."

"All I know is that I know nothing, earl Kalf." He frowned, not having expected such an answer. "There is not one truth about the gods, nor is there one true way to serve them. King Horik might have lost his son because of his false intentions, but he might also have been spared from losing his place in Valhalla. Your sister may just have been the sacrifice the gods required of you to become Earl of Hedeby. There is no one truth when it concerns the gods, and it is foolish to pretend to have found it." I was convinced of that. The gods might not have played a part in my life, but I knew it would make Kalf reconsider his luck and his position.

He fancied me because I was able to match his wit and because I saw things differently. I poked holes in his ironclad stories and made him think. Up front he might have wanted me for my title, but now he was falling head over heels for my mind and sharp tongue.

"Ragnhild..." He wanted to kiss me. I was tantalizing to him, like a forbidden fruit. Always moving in the direction he didn't expect, always having a clever retort.

"If you keep asking me for my advice in such subtle ways, I might just have to start charging you for my services." My words shocked his system enough for him to look up from my chest.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I know what you want." He sat very still, as a deer caught in headlights. "You want what all Viking want. The gods to be by your side forever, your name to live through the ages, and plenty of sons. And you think I have the absolute truth on how to get there, and you keep trying to tease it out of me. Why else would you chide king Horik over his devotion, but talk of the gods in my presence more than he ever did?" Kalf showed me his telltale easy smile and dared put his hand to my face as if we were very well acquainted. He thought he was lucky for not being seen through, yet.

"You keep on amazing me, Ragnhild. How is it you know me so well?"

"You're easy to read... And easy to talk to."

"As are you. So many of the things I heard about you were wrong."

"Like what?"

"I think the women who know you might be jealous, and that they have been lying to make you sound more human." I didn't know what to make of that, myself still being my biggest blindness. "Let's return before the sun sets." The sun was still ways off from setting. Kalf wanted me to feel slightly confused, so I would want to ask what he meant when we next met. At the least, it gave me time to talk it over with Bjorn, first.


	74. Calling Quits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 08-04-802

Kalf had decided to double down on his efforts ever since Horik had arrived. He'd sit in on the stories I'd tell the boys, give me casual compliments that I was born to be a mother, and would always find a way to weasel into everything I had planned with friends.

Of course, befitting his station, I couldn't refuse him that often. And now, Horik had joined the fray as well. After a particularly cheerful feast to celebrate his arrival Bjorn and I had gone to bed early.

"Kalf has been asking around about you again," Bjorn said as he pulled up the furs. "Siggy played her part well."

"What did she tell him?" I found my place against his chest, hoping this wouldn't end up in a fight.

"That you're still new to this way of life, and that we had a fight two nights ago." Which was true. Bjorn had been furious I was out with Kalf all day, and how confident he was starting to feel.

"What were we fighting over, according to her?"

"About how you spend so much time with him."

"So she told him the truth. All of it?"

"All she needed to. Kalf seems rather convinced he has a shot at you." I sighed, letting my fingers slide over his chest. "I really don't like having to let you spend time with him alone."

"Me, neither. And I hate myself for admitting it, but he's actually not that bad of a guy. I'm not attracted to him, at all, but he's nice." Now Bjorn sighed.

"Maybe we should just run away together. Forget about all of this bullshit."

"Don't tempt me, Ironside." Running off with Bjorn, forgetting all about this ridiculous plan, it was what kept me from sleeping like I used to.

"Don't call me that, Vessel." My lips found his chest, finding comfort in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"It would be nice to get away for a few days. Like a private trip, just the two of us."

"Father would lynch us both," he reminded me.

"Maybe we should let him. That's easier than having to wait for Ingstad to come here."

"I've been asking around, but no one seems to know who he is." I sighed, not feeling any better about all of this. "I don't want you to go through with this." My eyes flitted to his, trying to see how he was feeling. His eyes were hard.

"It's a little late to stop playing this game. And you knew what might happen." I really didn't want to get into a fight again, but we needed to be on the same page on this. I had to bring it up.

"I changed my mind," Bjorn said. He sounded stubborn already. "Can't I do that? I don't want you to spend time with either of them."

"Bjorn..." It felt strange, having him say these things to me. "Is this jealousy, or fear?"

"Does it matter?" He clenched his jaw a little.

"It does to me. If you're jealous, it means we can talk about it. If you're saying this out of fear, you need to talk to your father."

"He just told me to trust you." He'd already spoken to Ragnar... Behind my back, and he was now saying he didn't trust me? I sat up a bit, feeling more hurt than I had thought I would.

"What are you implying?" My mind was flooded with memories of Tom, the guy who had been just as jealous of me hanging out with others... But that wasn't to gain a political advantage, that had been about isolating me from the rest of the world. I couldn't get lost in a comparison if there wasn't one to begin with. This time, I meant to make it look like I was cheating. I didn't have to convince Bjorn that I actually wasn't.

"You're taking too many risks. I feel like you're underestimating yourself." I frowned as I tried to think of a moment I'd been careless.

"Like when?" I asked. He rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"This is exactly what I mean. You don't even know how bad it is, do you?"

"You make it sound like I'm throwing myself at him." I was starting to get angry, very fast. "If you think you can do it better than me, then by all means. Put on a dress and get him to warm up to you."

"That's not what I'm saying," Bjorn said.

"Then please, enlighten me. What am I doing wrong? Am I laughing at his jokes too loudly? Are my dresses too revealing?" Normally I liked lying between Bjorn and the wall on the other side of the bed, but now I felt as if I'd been enclosed. 

"Honey, please. I want to talk about this, but you're getting angry."

"Of course I'm getting angry," I hissed as I fought tears from coming to the surface. "You don't trust me."

"I do trust you, it's your sense of duty I'm worried about. Are you sure you even still want to do this? Or is this that weird sense of loyalty you have towards my father?"

"Bullshit. Don't change the subject, you're jealous. Do you really think I mean to go off with him? Or that I would risk him taking advantage of me?" He sighed as he turned around, facing away from me.

"Forget I said anything. I don't want to fight with you again."

"It's a little late for that. You started it, and now we'll finish this, Ironside." I heard him let out a deep sigh. "I don't want you in my bed if you don't trust me." Bjorn sat up and brought his face close to mine.

"I do trust you, I just said so."

"I think you're lying."

"I'm just cranky because I miss you, and I worry you're going to end up hurt. Like I just said. I don't know what else to say."

"That can't be all. You're hiding something else. It's you who's confused, Ironside."

"Stop calling me that. You know I hate it."

"Then maybe you'll get just as angry as me. How dare you lie to me."

"I'm not lying," he said through gritted teeth. "Your mistrust is making you see things."

"Oh, and that's okay for you to say? It's you not trusting me that's making me angry."

"I can't deal with this..." He got up, throwing the furs off him. "I shouldn't have brought it up. You're obviously too emotional about it." The fucking nerve!

"Can you fucking blame me! I thought you trusted me, and now I find out you don't! I thought it was clear to you how much I love and trust you, and now you say that you doubt me?"

"I'm not doubting you!" He turned around with an exasperated sigh. "I do love you, and I do trust you. I just want to make sure you're still comfortable with all of this." His words made me take in a deep breath. I could see he wasn't lying, or he just hid it very well.

"Then why did you tell me I'm taking too many risks? I'm not letting this slide, Bjorn. You brought it up, and we will talk about it."

"Can you? Just talk about it?"

"Am I screaming right now?" I had to grit my teeth from shouting. I'd promised Bjorn to keep the shouting down, and always try and talk it out. And now he was the one trying to weasel his way out of it. "I said I'd work on it. And I'm working very hard now." Bjorn relaxed, if only a little, which made it easier for me to keep my voice down.

"I keep hearing how you would look better next to him," he admitted.

"Do you worry I'll fall in love with him, or that I will leave you?"

"Both." He didn't dare look me in the eye. "You seem so at ease with him, and sometimes it looks like you would actually..."

"I'm not at ease with him, but if I can fool you, that means I'm getting better at hiding how I truly feel. Bjorn..." his eyes found mine. I could see how much he was hurting. "Everything will be okay. I know how to pretend to be happy, I’ve done it for years on end. When I'm spending time with him, it's all a lie."

"You tell him all these things I didn't hear until we were a lot more comfortable with each other. What am I to make of that?"

"It means you help me get better. I wouldn't have dreamed of telling him about my parents if I hadn't talked about it with you before. And he only gets bits and pieces, just some details." I got out of bed and stood before Bjorn, having to stand on my toes to wrap my arms around his neck. "I love you. You make the world easier to understand, and you help me understand myself. You know this is all just to keep you safe. I can't do a lot, but I do want to keep you from harm." He looked down into my eyes, and I saw he wasn't angry or upset anymore.

"Now you make me feel like a jerk." If he had needed me to comfort him, he shouldn't have made it seem like I was the problem.

"You kind of were." His face turned into a scowl, but after a second, he put his head in my neck. "I know things will get even tenser with Horik back in town now but promise me you'll try. I can't go through all this without your support, or to have it all fall apart before the end. I need you, you dipshit."

"I'm just glad we'll get to spend a day together tomorrow." I felt myself growing uneasy, having forgotten about laundry day. "Ragnhild?"

"I forgot about that..." Now it was my turn to avoid his gaze. I let go of his neck, but his hands kept holding onto my side.

"You forgot? I've been looking forward to this all week, and you know how much I hate laundry. Don't tell me you have a thing with that dirtbag."

"I'll cancel. I want to spend the day with you, too." He let go of me and started pacing through the room.

"Can't you see how this is driving me insane? I feel like you barely realize I'm still here for you."

"Bjorn, this is just a small mistake. It doesn't mean anything."

"And am I supposed to take your word for it?"

"You really are jealous. You can't handle this, can you?"

"I can't handle you running off with another man, is that what you want to hear?" He stood still in front of me. "I can't stand the thought of him touching you, I don't want someone else to think he even has a chance with you."

"What are we even fighting over? You're overreacting."

"No, Ragnhild. I'm not. Just half a year ago you didn't want anyone to touch you. And now you act like you're comfortable with all of it. I don't believe you."

"So you admit you just lied to me?"

"How can I lie to you about it when I don't know what to think! You're driving me insane! You make it seem like you don't even need me anymore!" I forced him to stop pacing, standing in front of him, holding onto his arms.

"I will always need you. Did you not teach me about the gods? Are you not the one to look out for me? I need you. I love you. I don't want us to fight like this." His eyes were still stubborn, turning hard as ice. That meant he was only getting more resolved. There was only one thing left for me to do, if I wanted to keep Bjorn and me from falling apart. "I'll talk to Ragnar in the morning. I'll tell him the plan is off." Whatever he expected me to say, this wasn't it.

"You can't just say that."

"I love you more than I do Ragnar or this plan, or the idea of you conquering Paris. I won't go on with this if it means we spend all of our time fighting over things we can't even talk about." I returned to the bed, bending down to draw back the furs. Bjorn's arms caught me in a tender embrace.

"You would risk angering my father, just so we'll stop fighting?"

"I don't want to risk losing you. This thing is tearing us apart, and I don't ever want to lose you." My voice started to break. "I can't lose you, Bjorn. What would be left of me?" Bjorn spun me around in his arms and kissed me. His gentle embrace did little to ease my tears. I couldn't lose him, ever.

"I love you," he whispered as he pushed me down on the bed. "I love you so much it hurts." He kissed the tears from my face, gently stroking my hair, his weight on me reassuring me he was really still here.

"I'll tell Ragnar in the morning. We'll need to come up with a plan before then, or he'll kill us both."

"He won't." Bjorn kissed me again, leaning back on his knees as he pulled at my nightgown. "I'll never let him touch you. I won't even let him near you." His kisses filled the emptiness I felt. His fingers softly stroking my bare skin filled me with hope and promises that everything would be alright.

I needed to feel Bjorn's warm skin on mine. I needed to hold him close, I needed to know he was here with me, feel his heart beating with life and love. His lips fluttered all over my skin. His fingers danced across my breasts.

"Bjorn..." I needed him. I wanted to feel him everywhere. I couldn't handle him not being inside of me.

My nails scratched over his back, forcing a groan to leave his lips. He grabbed hold of my wrists and held them over my head.

"Not like this," he whispered. "No sad sex tonight, not the slow kind. I want to praise you like I should. I mean to worship you."

"I can't promise I won't cry..."

"Then they will be tears of happiness." I let him tie my hands together, then to the bed. He kissed me again, making me forget I was tied up at all. He made me forget just what it was that had made me sad, to begin with.

A sharp gasp came from my mouth as he plunged his fingers into me. Bjorn smothered the sound with his lips on mine. He held a grueling pace, soon followed by a complete halt.

"Beg for it," he whispered.

"Never," I lied.

"Beg for my cock. I need to hear you say it." I couldn't give in so quickly.

"Fuck you." He gently, softly, let his wet fingers slide over my cheek. I felt the slickness stick to my skin, proof for the gods to see just how turned on I was. My lips found his fingers. Looking into his eyes intently, I licked them clean. Bjorn pulled them out before it would arouse him too much, letting his fingers slide down to my breasts.

He almost got me to beg for it. The soft diligence of his tongue and fingers, the way he palmed my breasts, massaged them with his tongue, nipped with his teeth, switching between his mouth and his fingers, he drove me nearly insane. I had to bite my lip to keep from shouting out.

"Beg for me. Ask me to fuck you like I never fucked you before."

"Never, Ironside." He yanked at my hair.

"Don't call me that."

"Then beg for it." I shouldn't have done that. I'd have to pay for that, dearly.

Bjorn descended between my thighs, kissing my markings as he passed them, holding my legs tightly.

"You will be the one to beg." His tongue flicked across my clitoris, just enough to make me writhe. "You will do what I want." His tongue dipped into me, just enough for me to squeal. "You will listen to me." His fingers found a nipple and flicked it, drawing a sharp breath from me. His words made me want to resist, but his tongue made me want to surrender.

"Bjorn..."

"Beg for my cock." His tongue slowly made its way through my slit. My legs stretched out towards the ceiling, trying to reach the heights I wanted to go to. I bit my lip as Bjorn kept my hips in place. He wouldn't let me push them in his face. "You know what I want." Agonizingly slow he drew his tongue through again, this time stopping before he even reached my clit. I fought against my restraints, going mad with lust. "I know what you need..." He breathed on my thighs, and even that was enough to drive me wild. "Tell me. Beg for me."

"Bjorn..." I wouldn't let him win. He would break before I did. He was just a boy...

The tip of his tongue softly touched my clitoris. He didn't move, and he wouldn't let me move. There was just the maddening lust, his hot breath between my legs, and knowing what he would give me if I just did as I said...

He dared me with his eyes. I saw his tongue, felt it move just enough to make me writhe in his grasp again, knowing I was slowly dying at his gentle torture.

"Fuck..." He knew I was close to breaking. He could tell from my breathing, from my cursing, from the slickness of my cunt. He could see the hardness of my nipples and heard me swallow, trying to maintain a semblance of control. His tongue moved up a little, just enough for me to notice, for a jolt of pleasure to be denied as I wanted it too badly.

I was at his mercy. I could only pray for him to grant me relief. He could leave me lying like this, tied up and wet, and still, I would thank him for what he had given me already.

"Please," I breathed. Bjorn dragged his tongue down, fast, causing me to writhe again, trying to tear free from my loving bonds.

"Please, what?"

"Make me yours. Make me come, make me do what you will. Please, just let me come. Bjorn, I beg you, please fuck me with that gorgeous fucking cock of yours..." He let go of me and turned me on my stomach. Keeping me flat on the bed he fucked me from behind, forcing my legs open wide with his strong hands. As he pumped into me, fucking out all of his anger, he pushed me down into the bed with a hand on my back.

I could only lie there and take it. I pulled on the rope, tried my best to breathe as he kept on fucking me, making me high on orgasms. I was at his mercy, and there was no place I'd rather be.


	75. Earl Ingstad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-04-802

At the day of Earl Ingstad's arrival I expected to be called in for the first meeting, but Ragnar chose to meet him alone. He had arrived by land, waiting in the forest. I was waiting anxiously, but the earl never made it back with Ragnar. He just seemed to ignore the fact the meeting had ever happened, which gave me cause for concern. I wanted to know what I was supposed to do, and Ragnar not telling me anything only made it worse.

A voice in the back of my head said this was some sort of payback for having left him in the dark about Horik a year ago, but I had told him I needed his reaction to being genuine... I clung to the hope mine had to be as well. Only the day after Ingstad's arrival did Ragnar call me in to talk about it.

"You will meet Earl Ingstad tonight after sunset. He has agreed to join my alliance, if I get you in a room with him, in private." My hope of only having to woo him had been wishful thinking. "There's a hunting cabin not too far from here. He wants to see the markings for himself if he's to... enjoy your grand gesture." I kept my face still, not wanting to show my anxiety. My body had been used for pleasure without my consent before, but using it to gain an advantage was a whole new ball game. "Are you sure you want to go through with this as was the original plan? I know you've been going back and forth a lot lately."

"It's hard, for the both of us. But if I can end it all tonight, all of us will sleep easier. Does Bjorn know yet?" I hadn't seen him all day after we decided to go through with it regardless. Ragnar shook his head. He wanted me to tell Bjorn, as I had with Jorgenson's visit.

"I leave that up to you. I will take you to the earl during the feast." This was the night. Everything would finally come to fruition, at last. People would die tonight, and they were none the wiser of it yet. "Would it help if I told you he was a good-looking young man?" I took a slow, deep breath, then shook my head. I just had one question.

"What does he expect of me?"

"He didn't specify. He just wants to enjoy your company." I wouldn't get away with playing dumb. I'd have to give it my all, without seeming too eager. As Bjorn had feared, I had to expect the worst.

"Then I guess I'll have to dress the part." I didn't want to talk about it any longer than I had to. Ragnar questioning me about my decision could only make me doubt myself again. Bjorn and I had gone back and forth on the subject enough by ourselves the last couple of days.

I went home and started dinner early. I'd not want to face Ingstad on an empty stomach. When Bjorn got home he took off his cloak and gave me a kiss while I was still cutting meat.

"What is it?" He noticed something was wrong. I put down my knife and sighed.

"I'm to meet earl Ingstad tonight." Now Bjorn sighed as well. He put his hands on my shoulders.

"I was wondering when that would happen..."

"It gets worse. He told Ragnar he'd join him if I meet with him out of town, in private." His fingers dug deep into my skin. "Bjorn..."

"I'm not happy about this."

"Me neither, but you're starting to hurt me." He immediately let go and started pacing around the room. We knew this had been coming, especially since the earl met up with Ragnar. "Do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to leave you be?" After all the changing of his mind I didn't want to assume how he felt.

"I don't know. Is tying you up to keep you from going out an option?" I had to smile, but stopped as I saw he meant it.

"You know how I feel about it. I'm not looking forward to it, either." I returned my attention to the last of the meat I still had to cut.

"You're not the one that has to wait and pick up the pieces." He was getting too emotional to have a normal conversation about this. I got up and stopped his pacing.

"Bjorn." He avoided my eyes, he really didn't want me to do this. I put my hand on his face. "Bjorn, please. At least look at me." I didn't know how fair it was of me to ask it of him, but I wanted him to support me, or at least pretend to do so.

"I don't want this." He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. "I don't want you to do this, I don't want us to even have to think about letting you do this."

"I know, and I feel the same. But we are who we are. You know I love you, and I know you love me. That's what I'll be thinking of tonight. Knowing I have you waiting here for me will help me get through it."

"I know you need me to be strong right now, but I can't." I didn't know if I could do this without him. I needed him, but if he couldn't support me...

"Then I guess I'll have to be strong enough for the both of us." I pushed down the feelings of disappointment. I couldn't handle it right now. I'd deal with it in the morning when all was said and done.

"Ragnhild..."

"I have to finish dinner." I went back to cooking.

"Please, don't be like this... I hate it when you go all dark and twisty."

"It's too late now to back down. You know that. We had our fair share of chances, and you decided you trusted me enough. That can't have changed since this morning."

"I know." He sat down next to me and put an arm around my waist. "I just... I feel so frustrated. I don't want any of this."

"We could always run away and never come back."

"If only... How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not calm. I'm pushing everything down. I can't handle this if you're so emotional about it. You have every right to feel the way you do, but I can't comfort you right now. I have my own storm to deal with, and I'm dealing with it by shoving it all away. Time will pass, the earl will have his way, and I'll come back to you." Bjorn let out a sigh, burying his head in my neck.

"You're so much stronger than me. I don't know how I can even try and be supportive." I backed out of his touch.

"You could help me with dinner, you could help me pick out something to wear, you could not talk about it..."

"You want me to help you pick what that creep will pull off you?"

"I'm just giving some options, don't make this into something it's not." Bjorn let out a frustrated grunt.

"Tying you to the bed sounds really good right about now..."

"Maybe later tonight. I need to eat something before I have to leave." He pulled me close for a moment, then got up. He started rummaging around through my clothing.

"How about this one?" I looked up and saw he had picked the most conservative dress I had.

"No." At least he was trying...

"How about this one, then?" His second option was better, but not by a lot. With Bjorn showing at least a modicum of support I let myself feel again. Bjorn's relief as he saw any form of emotion on my face at all made me regret even feeling the need to close myself off from the world.

"I'll get there all sweaty, you know that's for winter." I walked up to him and picked a better fit.

"No, not that one. I have too many fond memories of tearing that off you, and I want to keep tearing that off you for quite some time."

"I can't show up in a rag, you know that."

"What about that blue one Siggy gave you?"

"No, that's what I wore when we first kissed. How about this one? It's not too old."

"I'm not sure... It's... a bit revealing." I thought it wasn't all that exciting, more of a neutral pick.

"All the better."

"Just promise me one thing," Bjorn said, all play gone from his face. "That face, that's mine."

"Bjorn, I -" He kissed me with a desperate passion. His hands were all over my body. I let out a soft moan, barely audible.

"Promise me, Ragnhild."

"I promise," I sighed as he undid the lacing on my dress. "I'll never show anyone but you." Bjorn grew impatient and tore at the fabric, wanting to have me to himself one last time before tonight. I pulled the dress over my head and Bjorn picked me up, throwing me on our bed.

"I want you all to myself just for a little longer." He dove on top of me and started kissing me again. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting to feel him close. I wanted to have this to think back to. Bjorn was just as eager, wanting to feel every inch of my body. He wanted to mark off his territory.

"I don't want him to touch you here..." His mouth found my collarbone. "Or here..." He let his fingers slide up to my breasts. "And definitely not there..." Bjorn moved down and pushed my legs aside, kissing my thighs before he went down on me. Slowly, so very slowly. My back arched up in delight. "Yes, that's it..." His fingers helped tease all the fight out of me. "You're mine. I'll never let you go."

"Bjorn, please..." A voice in the back of my head told me we didn't have all the time in the world.

"No talking. Just let me make love to you." He didn't even want me to beg. He wanted to keep me here. And for a moment, I wanted to let him.

"No. I know what you want to do, but I can't." He stopped and looked up at me. "I have to get ready." Sighing, he sat up and wiped off his face. I got up a bit and wrapped my arms around him.

"At least let me go up there with you."

"Ingstad thinks he can steal me away. Seeing you there even for a moment will make him suspicious. I don't like it any more than you do, but you know just as much as I do how important this is." He remained silent then, watching me as I got off the bed and started dressing up. I didn't have time to eat anything other than some raw vegetables and a chunk of bread. As I sat down next to Bjorn, I saw how much he was hurting. He was not ready for such a thing. He was barely twenty, after all.

"I love you. Maybe go out and have a drink. Try and get your mind off of this."

"I didn't think this would be so hard for me."

"You were so worried about me you forgot all about yourself." I felt so bad for him, but I really had to go. I kissed him one last time and took my leave.

Under the cover of night and a dark cloak, I moved out of the village. Ragnar was already waiting with a horse for me to ride on. Only a small group of warriors were with us. Wordless, I got on and we started riding. Ragnar seemed unfazed, almost at ease. My mind was still with Bjorn.

"You do realize you can't walk in there with such a frown on your face, right?" I looked up at Ragnar.

"It's been hard the last couple of days. Bjorn and I have been fighting a lot."

"Something tells me that wasn't just for show..." I took a deep breath and pushed my feelings down. I couldn't be stuck with thoughts of Bjorn in my mind just now. I had to put on a show, one that would benefit the whole earldom. Now was not the time to be selfish or hold onto my old beliefs. If I blew this, Ragnar could get himself killed. He was trusting me with his life. And with his came the lives of his sons.

"So just how handsome is he?" I asked.

"He may just have seduced his way to the throne." That boded well for me. Some fat, ugly brute would not be as easy to fake being attracted to.

"Then I'll be fine." We halted near a cabin, where two men stood before the door. Ragnar greeted the men as I lowered my hood. I had to play my part. If I didn't, there was no telling what this Ingstad could do. He could turn against Ragnar, join forces with Horik and Kalf all the same, do with me as he pleased anyway. I couldn't risk Bjorn getting killed, or Ragnar for that matter.

"I'm very anxious to finally meet the earl," I told the earl's men with a furtive smile. "I've been told many great things about him."

"He waits for you inside," one of the men said, smiling as he let me in. The cabin was only dimly lit. A voice spoke before I could look around.

"Stand by the bed," it commanded. "Don't turn around." The voice was deep and coarse, leaving my imagination running wild. What kind of great beast would this earl be? I kept my head up, not wanting to show the fear that was rushing through my body. It would be over soon. Bjorn loved me. He was there for me.

Deft hands came around me from behind and unfastened the lace on my dress, pulling it down to the floor. I was left in my underclothes, forcing myself to keep down a shiver. Bjorn would still love me after this. I loved him, I had to do this to keep him safe. An hour with Ingstad would mean a life with Bjorn. I had to hold onto that.

Strangely delicate fingers touched my tattoos, making me wonder just how this man looked. They were smaller than I had expected, though just as calloused as those of a warrior. First at my back, then my hip. I tried to imagine it were Bjorn's fingers, keeping my eyes closed. He was waiting for me. It would all be over soon. Bjorn. These were his fingers, this was his touch.

My feet were knocked apart by a forceful foot, and the fingers pulled my remaining skirt all the way up to my thighs. Ingstad found the cats there as well. That was Bjorn's favorite one, he loved touching and kissing it. I loved it when he touched me there, almost always followed by his face between my legs.

The silence was deafening. I almost broke down from fear of what was to come. I needed to take back some measure of control. I needed to get this Earl to talk, if only for a bit. Being too compliant would give me away all the same. I was supposed to show a little fire.

"Do my markings please you, Earl Ingstad?"

"They do," a female voice spoke. What was going on? Had the earl brought along his wife? There were at least two people here, what if there were more? Just how many people were staring at my exposed skin?

"Do I please you?"

"You may put your dress back on," the woman offered. I thought I recognized the voice, but I was too nervous to put a face or a name to it. What was this strange reprieve?

I bowed down and pulled the dress back up, trying to look like I wasn't terrified of what was to come next. Did this mean I wouldn't have to surrender my body to the earl? Was this all a joke? Fumbling a bit as I put my arms through the bodice, I let out a poorly controlled sigh. Before I had finished the lacing, I turned around. My jaw dropped a bit as I realized what had been going on. Ragnar's relaxed attitude, the secretiveness of this earl... A nervous laugh passed my lips, knowing it had all been a test.

Lagertha stood before me. Behind her was a man who had not been too much off from my imagination as he had spoken. He'd only seen my backside, which was poorly lit. Relief and confusion battled for dominance, which must have flashed across my face.

"I can see you have grown into a strong and brave woman. How has my son been doing?"

"He is well, though he might feel anxious right now." Lagertha scoffed.

"He is a man now and should act like it. No doubt he finds it difficult to play the game like this. Though I am surprised to see you play." Something clicked into place. Nothing like a puzzle to get my mind off what was bothering me.

"Which is why you haven't entered Kattegat and asked to see me here. It was a test for both me and Bjorn. You wanted to see for yourself if we would make the right decision and see if the rumors about me were true." She also wanted to know if I was good enough for Bjorn, and how loyal I'd be to Ragnar. Lagertha awarded me with a smile. "But the real question is if king Horik and Earl Kalf know who you are. You obviously plan on supporting Ragnar, but what advantage do you bring him? What does he offer in return?" Lagertha signaled the man to leave the cabin and Ragnar soon entered, wearing a big smile on his face.

"Ships and warriors for the raid in exchange for support of my claim as Earl," Lagertha said after the door had closed again. That made sense. Female earls must have had to deal with a lot of mistrust and angry men.

"What is to come next?" I asked.

"You will pretend to have been greatly satisfied by the Earl. This will coax Horik and Kalf to proceed with their plans ahead of time, leaving us an opening to take them down tonight." Ragnar was very pleased with me, but I felt an uneasy feeling grow. I knew how bloody tonight would become. Still, the relief of not having to pleasure anyone dominated.

"I will be leaving as soon as possible. If I move swiftly, I should be able to add Earl Kalf's lands and the rule of Hedeby to mine." It was brilliant. Ragnar would be able to take out multiple enemies, and Lagertha would exponentially grow her territory, while at the same time not posing a threat to each other. It was a perfect political alliance, already sealed with a son.

"And make the message even more clear that both you and Ragnar are not to be taken lightly. Say no more. I know how to proceed."

"One more thing," Ragnar said, "Bjorn is - "

"Not to know of this yet. Seeing us at odds at the feast will make Kalf wonder if he has a chance as well, distracting him from whatever he and Horik have planned. I've seen their men lurking about. They will want to strike tonight when they see me return. They think they know what's going on." My future in-laws seemed satisfied with how I'd handled it eventually, and how I had adapted. I was just glad I hadn't been touched by a man that wasn't Bjorn.

Lagertha made to ride beside me on our way back.

"You don't look as relaxed as I thought you would," she noted. "Ragnar did his best to make it hard on you."

"There are some things I'm trying to figure out." I guessed I didn't have to wait to find out what storm had been brewing in the south of Denmark.

"Such as? What happened to Jorgenson?"

"You killed him, obviously. I'm wondering about Horik and Kalf. They're not allies by choice, so why did they even let you join in on their alliance? How did you hide your identity?"

"How did you figure I killed him?" Lagertha asked in return.

"Bjorn told me what he did to you." I felt her eyes taking me in as I kept staring ahead of me.

"Do you judge me for it?"

"Maybe a little for letting it go on this long," I admitted.

"I couldn't just run away from home afterward," she shot back. "I needed to make sure I could build a life."

"I can see why you and Ragnar made such a good couple for so long." She hadn't just wanted to escape, she had wanted to do better. And to get there, she'd let herself go through hell even longer. Lagertha was so much stronger than I could ever be.

"Horik sent word to Hedeby and Ribe after the raid on Frisia. After Ragnar refused to let Jorgenson come along, Horik spread rumors that Kalf would ask for your hand in marriage. He wasn't too glad about that news getting out, so they weren't in the best of places when they came here. Jorgenson thought to overthrow Hedeby a moon past, but I stopped it and sent word as earl Ingstad. He didn't think to ask if I'd survived the takeover. After all, he was far too busy trying to get to know you." I wondered how long it would take my traders to get me back that news.

"Then you took a great risk trusting I could pull it off."

"I know my son. He wouldn't fall for just any woman. He's become a lot more patient since he's lived in Kattegat, and that's not because of his father." I could've sworn there was some form of mutual respect in that remark.


	76. Kalf's Demise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-04-802

I caught sight of Bjorn in the great hall, surrounded by men he had raided with not that long ago. I made to greet him, but Athelstan blocked my path before I could reach him.

"Ragnhild, what's going on with you and Bjorn? He has been out of it all night. Just the mention of your name was enough to set him off. He nearly broke my arm."

"I don't know. I was just on my way to find him."

"Where were you? You and Ragnar weren't at the feast, and people noticed." Good. A sharp mind with eyes everywhere would have seen me leave in the direction of the forest and deduced me and Ragnar would be visiting with Earl Ingstad.

"Athelstan, I'm glad to hear you are worried for us, but I promise it's not necessary."

"Were you - what were you doing? Did Ragnar force you to -" I had to cut him off before he would say too much.

"Please, drop the subject. I do not wish to speak of it right now. I'll explain later."

"Maria," he whispered, hoping to get through to me.

"Do not speak that name," I hissed. Having such a secret come out at a time like this would be disastrous. "I will tell you another time. Now, I'd really like to speak to Bjorn." I left the priest behind, furious at what he'd said. It must have shown because Bjorn left his seat to meet me. He couldn't ask me how it went and what had happened, just as I couldn't tell him. Not here, not now.

"Were you fighting with Athelstan? What's going on? I've never seen you this upset after talking to him." He put his hands on my hips. I kept my hands at my side. I had no way of knowing who was watching, with Bjorn blocking most of my sight. I did know we were very visible, and after all our fighting lately, very much worthy of a cursory glance.

"It's nothing. He made some assumptions he shouldn't have made." It was an evasive answer at best and reminded me there were more secrets than I wanted between me and Bjorn. His eyes asked the question burning inside of him. "Bjorn, please drop it. I just want to get a drink and forget about it. At least for now." I removed his hands from my hips, putting on an annoyed look.

"But I can't forget about it." He should know better than try and talk to me about it here, out in the open. Under the premise of my scuffle with Athelstan, Bjorn was hoping for me to tell him about my meeting with Earl Ingstad. It was too dangerous though, as I saw a few people looking our way as I took in a deep sigh. Kalf was amongst them. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Because I have nothing to say about it right now." I pulled his hands from my hips again and left him behind. I left the hall and slowly moved to the beach. Athelstan had opened old wounds that still bled as he picked at the scabs. My whole life here was a lie, the severity of it hitting me full force. I could play pretend all I wanted, but I was a cruel joke of fate. My tattoos somehow had made me special, but that was all one big coincidence. Only pure luck had kept me alive so far, and I felt like it could all unravel in an instant.

I sat down on a large rock on the beach, where I had often watched Bjorn train. I had enjoyed the fact that the sight of my presence distracted him, while at the same time making him try that much harder. The novelty had worn off for the both of us, but this rock still held fond memories.

"Ragnhild." Earl Kalf appeared before me, a mug in hand. "Might I offer you a drink?" My woes dissipated, I had to remain focused. I took the mug, noticing he hadn't brought one for himself. By smell alone, I knew the cup held one of the strongest meads that were served. Guessing Kalf assumed I hadn't eaten yet, I drank fast to give him the illusion I was intoxicated. I hadn't been able to return at the same moment as Ragnar, so I'd stayed back for a bit, changing into a different cloak, and eating some leftovers. Anyone who spotted me would have guessed I would have wanted to clean up a bit after my rendezvous.

"Where are my manners? Please, sit down," I invited. Kalf joined me on the rock.

"I noticed you were at odds with Bjorn. Did he treat you badly?"

"Bjorn is... young. He may be Ragnar's son, but that doesn't mean all he does is right."

"Did he hurt you?" Kalf asked with a sense of urgency. He felt an opening, but I couldn't give myself up that easily. So I just drank a big gulp, remaining silent. "If there is anything I can do to make you feel better..."

"Why are you so nice to me?" I had to play aloof at first, making him believe he had won my trust later. "You know I am loyal to Ragnar, and that I live with his son."

"I can't help myself. When I see such a pretty woman as yourself being treated so badly, I become protective. I can't stand idly by as you sit here, alone with your troubles." I turned to face him.

"I'm not that pretty," I said, not lying a word. Kalf only meant to flatter me. I considered myself to be average, I had no delusions about that. My skin was still flawless, something only a few women here could boast, but that was mostly because I only had lived here for three years. In another five, I'd look as weathered as all of them.

Compared to the Viking I was small, and I had the luck to have had skin care products in my teenage years. If anything, I was different. I had come to accept that Bjorn thought I was beautiful, and I believed it when he said it. A man such as Kalf, who clearly said it to flatter me, him I didn't believe. He had something to gain from flattering me.

"Then you must be blind. Will you tell me of your troubles?" I pretended he'd just said something very sweet that had made me want to trust him a little. His voice told me he was going for that angle.

"I will admit, it would be nice to talk to someone..." I glanced around to see who else was out on the beach. "But not here. There are too many prying eyes." A knowing smile made Kalf get to his feet, offering me his hand. I accepted. "I know where we can talk." He let me drag him away. I was careful to walk near a lit fire, my dress catching the light. I recognized Floki standing at the other edge of the fire, a hooded cloak covering most of his face. He saw me, and I knew he would follow to find out where I'd take Kalf. Now I just had to stall as Kalf's death drew near.

"Are you sure this is a safe place? Can't we go to your house?"

"Bjorn could come in. I'm not ready to face him yet."

I walked past the beach until we reached an alcove in the mountain that surrounded Kattegat. The light of the moon was the only thing by which we could see. We sat across from each other, as was only proper. He sat facing the path behind us, making him feel more comfortable. It also meant he would see anyone approaching.

"Now we can talk freely, what is it that ails you?" I pulled a hand through my hair, making sure it all fell on my back. It would be better visible in the moonlight than my dress.

"Do you ever feel like you don't belong? I know I said otherwise when we first met, but..."

"But you fear Ragnar, as do many. There is no shame in admitting that. I find facing one's fears is one of the bravest things to do." I gave him a warm smile.

"I have to suffer him, though, if I'm to stay with Bjorn. He makes me happy, he really does. I love him. But he is changing. Ragnar teaches him to be cruel and cunning, and he is growing meaner because of it. Sometimes I hardly recognize him." I let a silence fall as if I was remembering a few times when it had happened.

"If you had been mine, I would treat you like the queen you should be. But it is as you said before, I came too late." Kalf seemed certain he'd have a chance with me had we met sooner. All of my efforts had not been in vain.

"It seems I have misjudged you. I was told you were a cold-hearted ambitious man. Yet now I see those were false claims. You've been nothing but kind to me. I'm sorry for not realizing sooner." I cast a woeful smile, beckoning him to make a move. I wanted him to come closer, perhaps sit beside me, facing off from the path behind me.

"To lie to a woman such as you, these men must be truly desperate. Ragnhild, I wish now more than ever I had come to meet you sooner."

"I know there's something going on here. I'm not privy to whatever is going on, but I can sense it. Do you know?" Kalf hesitated for a bit, not sure how or if to answer. "Please, I need to know if I'm safe. I just need to know if there's something bad about to happen. I need to be able to protect myself," I said, then looked down at my toes as I clutched my knees.

"Are you really that scared? You know you don't have to stay here, right? You're a free woman, you can do what you want. If you want to leave Kattegat..." I had to scoff at his words.

"And go where? Do you imagine Ragnar would just let me go?" I stared down at my mug, then finished the last of it. "I owe him my life."

"Ragnhild, you don't have to be afraid. You have more of a say than you think. If you can find someone you trust, I'm sure anyone would be happy to help you."

"And who's to say they won't just use me the same way Ragnar does? Who knows what they might make me do. I haven't exactly had a lot of good experiences with being the vessel and all."

"Not all men are like Ragnar or Bjorn. There are those who would treat you like the queen you deserve to be." A queen... He'd have to kill Horik to get that title for me.

"Someone like you?" I looked up, staring into Kalf's eyes. After all the time I had spent skirting around things, he was surprised to hear me talk this bold. "How would a life away from Kattegat even look like?" How would a life with him look like?

"You'd be safe for the rest of your life. You wouldn't have to worry about being paraded around, you wouldn't be forced to pleasure other men." I'd have to change my approach a bit, soften up.

"Everyone wants something. That much I know."

"All I want for you is to be safe. If you were to go with me, I'd never use you like that." He came a bit closer, holding out a hand. I hesitated a bit, then put my hand in his. "Just say the word and I'll keep you safe. I'll help you get out of here, we could return to Hedeby in the morning."

"Then what would you have me do?"

"I'd have you rule in my absence. I'd have you love me, marry me, have my children." He needed an heir, and plenty of back-up options.

"You don't care that I'm the vessel of Freyja? I find that hard to believe."

"What have they done to you, to make you so mistrusting?"

"They have done enough. Did you not also require proof when we first met?"

"I saw the marking on your back, and I see what kind of woman you are. For me, that is proof enough. I remain curious but will only see the other two if you desire me to see them. Right now, I'm just worried about you and your safety." I bit my lip for a second, then got up. Kalf did as well.

"You make it sound like you would risk Ragnar's wrath to keep me safe..."

"I'm not afraid of him. I know his weaknesses, I can take him on."

"You don't know him like I do." A hint of desperation reached his ears. "You can't just throw your life away like that. He'll kill you." He came closer, holding me in his arms. His thumb wiped away the tear I had forcefully pushed out.

"You've been asking for my help since we first met, and I'm a fool for only realizing it now. Will you let me help you? Will you come with me, to safety?"

"Earl Kalf..."

"You don't have to stand on formality like that, you know that. I'm just a man, madly in love... With the most amazing woman I could ever hope to meet." This was it. He was ready to believe everything I told him, he was mine to do with as I pleased.

"Close your eyes," I whispered, then took a step back. A grin spreading across Kalf's face, he closed them. I glanced behind me and saw three shadows moving ever so carefully across the path. "Promise me you won't peek." They picked up the pace as I beckoned them.

"I promise on my arm ring I will not let my eyes wander until you tell me otherwise." He added a hand in front of his eyes. I rather loudly tried to undo the lacing on the front of my dress, giggling a bit. It seemed like the alcohol was getting to my head.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I whispered. The three shadows were almost upon us. I recognized axes as they were touched by the moonlight.

"Okay, I - I think I'm ready... Just... promise to be gentle, okay?" Floki, Torstein, and Bjorn moved past me and pointed their weapons at Kalf. "You can open your eyes now." Kalf's face showed pure betrayal as he saw how his situation had changed. 

"You bitch!" He spat on the floor as I scrambled to get away. Bjorn held me with his free arm as I clutched onto his shirt. "You betrayed me! I thought you loved me!" Floki yanked him back on his knees, putting his axe at his throat.

"No," I said as I took a step towards Kalf. "Not yet."

"Ragnhild? We came here to kill him..." I ignored Floki and sank down on my knees in front of Kalf. He grunted, tried to break free from the grasp.

"You lured me here. You knew they would come for me," Kalf spat.

"Oh, I know your kind. You think all I need is a proper dick, yours in fact. I'll keep you from harm, you'll say. I know what you like. I know you want it, just look at how your body reacts. If it feels good for me, how can it not feel good for you? Come on babe, just this once. You'll be happy we did it afterwards. You owe me, love. I paid for your cunt. I gave you attention, and affection, and now I own that pretty pink little cunt of yours." Kalf looked confused now, his eyes darting everywhere. "You tried to get me drunk. You tried to get me to strip naked. Out of all the men out there in world, you just know me, don't you? You feel me, you know what I need. We connected, just because I batted my eyes at you once, and laughed at your jokes. And only you can give me what I need to feel free. Isn't that what you wanted? Did you not want to have sex with me, no matter what I would say or do?"

"What? I'd never rape a woman!"

"Tell that to the slaves who came running to me. You called out my name as you raped them."

"But that's not rape!" He was desperate, but the more he struggled the tighter Floki and Torstein held on to him. "What Ragnar made you do with Ingstad, that's rape!" There was no sense in talking to him further. I'd never convinced him it was still rape, I knew all too well how slaves were available to every man in need. Besides, I had said my piece. I would watch him die, and that would be the end of it.

I got up and let Bjorn take me in his arms.

"Are you ready for this?" I nodded, then turned around to face Kalf for the last time.

"You whore! Why would you fuck one earl, and not me!" Those were his last words. Bjorn swung his axe into Kalf's chest. Blood spattered everywhere. He fell backward as Floki and Torstein let go of him. My eyes widened. I had never seen a man die like that before, not one I'd spoken to, one that I'd known. Trying to hide my fear, I started fidgeting with my hair. Before I got very far, Bjorn was standing next to me. He put a hand around my waist. Wrapping my arms around him, I noticed there was blood on his clothing, as well as his throat and face. I couldn't pretend this was ketchup.

"Are you okay?"

"I should have cut his balls off," I said, but just after I spoke a chill ran down my spine. He gently pushed my head against his chest, resting his head on mine. He ran his hand through my hair, and we swayed a little. "Lagertha, she..."

"I know. Floki told me as we came up here."

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you."

"You were right to keep it from me. It was the only way to do what we had to."

"I've never seen a man die like that."

"It's okay. I know. Take your time." From the corner of my eye, I could see Floki and Torstein dragging away Kalf's body. They both gave me a curious look, wondering just what I had tried to do.

"Will it ever get easier?"

"It will. But if it's up to me, that's the last man I have killed in front of you."

"Don't make me any promises you can't keep." If Bjorn was ever to become earl after Ragnar...

"I can at least try." I took a deep sigh and steadied myself.

"I know you want to protect me from this, but I think it's one of the things I'll have to get used to." Bjorn let go of me and looked into my eyes.

"I don't want to lose you over something like this. If you're already with child, how could I ever let you go?" Did Bjorn think I might be pregnant? I had taken great care to avoid it. Us talking about it had just been to get an idea of where we both stood. Bjorn must have thought I was just letting things happen as they might.

"I'm not with child yet," I told him. "But I'm happy to hear you say how much you care for me. Come on, we have to head back."

"Are you sure you're ready for this? Kalf's not the only one that died tonight. And you did so amazingly already, we could just go home."

"I know I'm not ready, but I can't wait out here until I am. I have to face it sooner or later, and I'd rather have you by my side when I do." Bjorn pulled me close once again, moving a hand through my hair.

"You never cease to amaze me, you know that? All I could do was mope around and think of myself, and you were facing this part of your past all alone."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. It was difficult for the both of us. And I had you with me for the most painful part."

"If there's anyone I want to be hard on, it's my parents. Honestly, putting us through all this..."

"You know Ragnar didn't find out until he met with her. We might have been able to figure out what this was really about if we hadn't been so concerned with how this all affected us. And in any case, we passed the test. I don't think we'll have to consider doing something like this for a very long time, if ever."

"I hope you're right. Let's just promise we'll never involve our children in something like this, or the boys."

"Gods no, I'd rather face it myself than have them go through this shit." Bjorn chuckled.

"At least now we know which one of us is the strong one." I slapped his arm lightly. Now he was making me doubt if he wasn't just lying to make me feel better.

"Like that was ever up for debate," I quipped. After a deep breath, he let go and took my arm in his. Together we started walking, facing the massacre that was occurring in Kattegat. 


	77. Jarl Borg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-04-802

Three days had passed since Kalf's death. King Horik was under careful watch and without anyone to come and help him as he tried to take out Ragnar and his family, his most trusted men had burned in the barn they had slept in. Ragnar had spared Horik's life, at least for now. He needed his forces to even try and attempt to raid Paris. Lagertha was already on her way to make sure Kalf's warriors would join us. Jarl Borg was a completely different story, however.

An octagonal platform had been built in the center of the town square. It was circled by large fire pits, casting an eerie glow. The entire village had been whispering about the blood eagle ever since Ragnar had spoken the words. I found myself drawn to the shed where Jarl Borg was being kept increasingly, until I couldn't take it anymore and went in.

Whatever I had expected, it was far worse than that. Jarl Borg looked beyond filthy, with his matted hair plastered against his gaunt face. Barely anything was left of him, his clothes almost having rotted away and his muscles all but disappeared. Images of Holocaust survivors came to mind, leaving me little choice but to see Ragnar as the cruel warlord he could be. This world wasn't built on happiness or civil rights.

"Come to gloat, have you?" I was surprised Borg even managed to speak.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," I said honestly. "I know Torvi isn't allowed to visit."

"Ah, my darling wife. How is she?"

"She's... adapting. She gave birth to a son about a year ago. She named him Gunthrum." Borg seemed surprised by the news.

"Is she still alive? They both are?"

"Yes. I convinced Ragnar to allow her to stay here for as long as you are. It's been hard on her, but she seems to be thriving as much as can be expected."

"How would you be able to - wait a second. You're that bitch slave that lured me into a trap!" Borg didn't try to stand up or move at all, but his anger seeped out of every pore.

"I am," I admitted. "I was made a free woman shortly after when Ragnar found out I was sent by the gods. I'm the vessel of Freyja."

"Do you think I'd hate you more if it had been because of how you tricked me? Why tell me this? I've been cut off from almost everyone since I was put in here. Does Ragnar even know you're here?"

"By now he must have heard, yet I don't see him barging down the door to drag me out."

"Then why are you here?" Borg asked.

"I don't know. I guess... I just want to know more about you. What was your life like? Why did you want to take over Kattegat?"

"I won't give you a reason to hate me. I know you're not from our world, and how you struggle with our way of life. Those bitches you left behind were very glad to tell me all about you. Only when I got put in here did I put a face to the tales. I won't make my death any easier on you."

"Then try and make it harder on me. Tell me what a good man you've been, how much you long to see your wife and child."

"I will tell you nothing! Get the fuck out." I sat down on the dirty floor. "I said, get the fuck out!"

"I think no man should be alone before he dies," I said. "That's one of the things that makes it hard for me to live here. I brought you some food, as well. Where I come from every man is entitled to a last supper. Usually, you'd get to choose, but I wasn't sure if I'd be let in again, so I just picked some things. I hope you don't mind. Torvi once mentioned you love the smell of freshly baked bread." I got a package from my satchel and unfolded it before me.

"You must have poisoned it."

"If you really thought that, you'd be eating right now. Waiting almost two years to get blood eagled must have made you want to avoid it."

"I'm not a coward!" His sudden outburst made me sit up straight. "I have made my peace with it long ago. I will accept whatever is to come. It is you who are afraid of the eagle."

"You're right," I told him. "I'm terrified. Only a few days ago I saw a man killed before my eyes, without trial or excuse. He pissed off the wrong people, and for that, he had to die. I was the one to lure him in, yet again."

"Then you have killed him just as much as you've killed me. Don't look to me for absolution."

"At least let me share this food with you, then." I tore apart the bread, making the smell of it drift through the cell. I took a bite out of the middle, proving there wasn't any poison in it. "I made this for you, not for me. But if you're not having any..." Borg came closer now but made it only halfway.

"Torvi remembered?"

"She talks to me about you when no one else is around. I also brought some of that acrid fish jelly. She made it for you." Borg snorted at that. I got up and moved the food to where Borg could reach it.

"This is quite a feast. What is your name?"

"I'm Ragnhild."

"I'll be sure to ask the gods why they brought you here when I meet them."

"If you ever find out, please find a way to let me know, as well." Borg enjoyed some of the bread and the fish jelly.

"Why are you so kind to my wife? I've been in here longer than I was with her."

"She did nothing wrong. And I won't let anything happen to your son because of what you might have done. To tell you the truth, if that were upheld, I'd be here in chains alongside you."

"You bring me food, you protect my wife and son, and you don't even expect me to forgive you. What do you want? Why are you here?"

"I need to toughen up if I'm to live a normal life here. But I don't expect that to go over without a few scrapes and bruises."

"And thus, you hurt yourself to grow stronger. That sounds like you're doing just fine. This bread is delicious, by the way."

"I added some herbs to the mixture, I hate the way the food is always so bland here. A dash of salt makes a world of difference."

"Horik told me your house is filled with herbs and spices, among other things." They had talked since Borg had been put in here, or at least communicated. I just wondered why that would be of importance, and not the fact Borg had a son. Perhaps Horik was jealous because he had lost one of his.

"Did he also tell you his heir decided to leave Denmark because of me?"

"Ari left?" Borg spoke with a full mouth.

"When I met him he seemed convinced I knew things as if I were a Seeress. He asked me if he would ever be able to travel the world as he really wanted. I told him it depended on how much he was willing to give up." Borg let out a throaty laugh.

"So, the boy figured he'd need to give up the crown and his way of life. What an idiot."

"What makes you say that?"

"If he'd become king, he could have decided to take a fleet and go wherever he wanted. Instead, he's now off in some distant land surrounded by enemies. You sent the boy to his death. I tried to warn Horik of what to expect coming before he set out."

"You know what Horik was planning on doing. If anything, I gave him a fighting chance. Ari asked me a question, and I answered him. I didn't tell him to renounce everything and go off gallivanting. It was his choice to leave, I won't have you blame me for it."

"You're a dangerous woman. Half of what you do and say, you can't even imagine what kind of things you put in motion. Even if you try and help, you doom those you love to certain death. I was powerless before you, I see that now." All that Bjorn had taught me had made me see just why it all had played out the way it did. Still, I tried to see it for what it was. It was his truth, not mine. I had my own rules to follow, my own moral code to live by.

"You give me too much credit, Jarl Borg. I am nothing more but a lost woman, trying to find her way."

"Is that what Ragnar tells you when you come up with plans together? You must know better than that. He's using you."

"I know what others think I am, I have no illusions as to that. But how I see myself is something quite different."

"Then tell me, how do others see you?" I hesitated for a bit, then decided Borg could never use the information anyway. He might even have something to say about it I could use.

"Two earls once made me an offer to become their queen. An old woman prophesied my fate was entwined with that of the Viking, and that I'd be coming like a Valkyrie, though I have no idea what she might have meant by that. Others think that Freyja works her wonders through me." Jarl Borg eyed me warily, taking some distance from me.

"If that is true, why are you loyal to Ragnar? Why not carve out your own kingdom? All you have to do is kill Horik, and you'll be the queen of the Danes. Marry his remaining son and no one will dispute your claim. I have no doubt you could do that."

"I have no desire to rule."

"I don't believe that."

"It's up to you to believe what you want. Anyway, I wouldn't eat everything I brought in one sitting. Your body isn't used to it, and you'll just throw it all up. From the looks of it, you've steadily been given smaller portions over at least the past few moons."

"Since Ragnar came back from Frisia, I imagine. How did you know?"

"I just know things." Like how a body looks when it's severely starved, and how he'd have much more loose skin had he been given less food all at once.

"Then tell me. Will I enter Valhalla?"

"Do you feel like you've earned a place there?"

"I will if I suffer the eagle without complaint."

"Then how could my words ever deter you, or give you strength?" Borg sighed.

"You are fearsome indeed, Ragnhild. Thank you, for making sure my wife and son have been safe all this time. Will you be there?"

"I will."

"Then I will make it to Valhalla. Had I cared for either of them, I'd warn Horik and Ragnar about you."

"Is there anything you'd like me to tell Torvi? Or your son, should I ever meet him again after they leave? I hold your final words to be sacred, and I won't tell anyone else."

"Somehow, I tend to believe you, but... No, thank you. I won't have you use my words against her, or him."

"Then I shall tell them you love them and hope they will find a good life." I got up and left the cell, leaving Jarl Borg with his thoughts and the food he had left.

Outside, I saw Torvi looking at me from behind a house a few meters away. I nodded my head to the left and walked over in that direction. Passing a few buildings, I saw Torvi on the other side of an alley. We walked towards each other, and she clutched me by my arms.

"Is he well?" she whispered.

"He looks terrible. He hasn't had a decent meal in a long time. You should prepare for that, he's... thin wouldn't do it justice. He's mostly skin and bones." Torvi started to sob. "Do not worry for him. He is still a strong man, and he plans on facing Ragnar with dignity. He wants to enter Valhalla." My words would have meant little to anyone from my time, but Torvi seemed comforted.

"Did he ask about me? And the baby?"

"He did. He likes the name, and is a bit surprised you're still here. He asked me to tell you how much he loves you still. Thinking of you has made it easier for him to endure his imprisonment. He wants you to have a happy life, wherever it may take you." Torvi couldn't handle too much truth right now, I considered my words a little white lie to make it easier for her. "Have you decided where to go?"

"I did. I want to follow Lagertha. I'll leave on the next ship to Hedeby." Lagertha would be proud to have a strong woman like Torvi among her people. "Thank you, Ragnhild. For everything you've done for me."

"I only talked to Ragnar. I'm sure he wasn't really planning on punishing you, as well."

"Even if that's true, you've been a friend to me when I needed one the most. I will never forget your kindness."

"Nor will I forget yours." I wrapped my arms around her, happy to have found a friend, and sad she would soon leave. 


	78. Puzzles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-04-802

Bjorn had asked me if I wanted to stay home, but I insisted on witnessing the blood eagling. It was just the next step in accepting where I was now. After all, I'd been ready to use my body as a weapon. Seeing someone I hated mutilated was not that far off in the grand scheme of what I could and couldn't handle. As long as I told myself it was all for show, I'd be able to keep myself together during the punishment. Still, Bjorn kept a close eye on me. He wasn't even sure what to expect himself, it would be the first time he saw it as well. He had told me it was supposed to be beautiful, in a disturbing, cruel way.

"I heard you went to visit him this morning. I didn't think to tell you that you weren't supposed to," Bjorn said softly. "Having talked to him will only make it harder."

"I'm counting on that," I answered. "I need to be able to handle these kinds of things."

"That doesn't mean you have to push yourself like this. No one expects you to become okay with all of this overnight. Neither should you. Ragnhild, listen to me. You've been through enough the last few days, you can't expect to do it all in a week, or a moon. You need time, and that's okay."

"I had other reasons for going to him." I ignored his plea, knowing it would only make me doubt my being here.

"Torvi? Did she make you go?"

"No. I told her I was thinking of visiting, and she asked me to bring him some food if I did and see how he was doing." He sighed at my answer. Ragnar came to the platform, dressed in a white tunic. He made a show of flashing the blade in his hands, leaving no doubt how eager he was to start.

"Why did you do it, then?" Bjorn asked.

"Because I wanted to push myself."

"You'll regret it, and soon. We can't leave halfway through." Jarl Borg was led in, with Floki and Rollo at his side. Without hesitation, the Jarl stepped onto the podium, removing his cloak. He had a skull in his hands. If the stories were true, it was the skull of his first wife.

"He won't make a sound. I'll be fine as long as he remains silent. I can pretend it's just for show," I told myself out loud.

"How do you know that?"

"He told me that's the only way he can reach Valhalla." Bjorn let out a tired sigh.

"If it gets too bad, let me know. You're so tiny I could hide you away enough for you to cover your ears and eyes."

"I don't think it will come to that but thank you." I glanced around and found Torvi with Borg's cloak in her hands. She had left Gunthrum at the house she had lived in for the past few months. I noticed I felt bad for her, but steeled myself by remembering this was not about her, but about Jarl Borg, how we had to survive in the farmhouse because of her husband. Good men and women had died defending Kattegat and had died to help us take it back. Jarl Borg had killed many friends and betrayed us. I laid a hand on Bjorn's, who held on to my shoulders.

As the Jarl put his sickeningly thin wrists in the restraints, I felt glad to be facing him, not having to see the gruesome torture Ragnar would inflict on his back. His eyes found mine, if only for a moment. The pitiful look on my face made him look away. The silence that fell spoke of reverence. No words were spoken, no words were needed. Everyone here knew why the Jarl would be blood eagled.

Ragnar put his blade up, changing its angle as if holding a paintbrush. Only the blood on the blade told me he had begun, as Jarl Borg kept silent, barely showing he was in pain. It was only when Ragnar switched to an axe that the expression on Jarl Borg's face showed suffering. I grabbed Bjorn's hand a bit tighter. He rested his head on mine. His mind was more with me and my well-being than what was happening in front of us.

Again, Ragnar moved around the stage, making sure the audience knew what was to come, as well as make Jarl Borg suffer under the pain and prolonged anticipation. Ragnar knew perfectly what would make this as worse and painful as he could, adding mind games to the physical hurt. He was enjoying this. This was him as a warlord, not as a father.

His axe swung down, cracking ribs, tearing cartilage. The sound made me feel sick to my stomach. My body flinched, and Bjorn put his arms around my waist. Another sickening crunch rolled across the stage. It was just fake. A sound effect added to make it as real as possible. Jarl Borg was just a very good actor, he wasn't even screaming. No one could go through such pain and not scream. I calmed down and my nausea lessened as I breathed through my nose.

Ragnar kept hacking and slicing until I could see ribs poking out. A flap of skin covered the ribs. Ragnar switched to a blade again, and soon two bloody sacks were put on Borg's shoulders. Still, not a sound came out of Jarl Borg's mouth. His eyelids had grown heavy, his head starting to hang down. Blood had pooled around his feet. No doubt he'd soon bleed out. Ketchup. That was all it was. Ragnar moved to face his enemy and admire his work. He was satisfied and left the stage. Jarl Borg was left to die.

"Your father did well," I spoke softly. Finally, I allowed myself to close my eyes. I felt a warm breath of air passing through my hair. This hadn't been easy for Bjorn to see, either. He led me away to the great hall.

"You almost collapsed. I told you it would be hard. Especially having talked to him beforehand," Bjorn finally said.

"I'm glad I did it now that it's done, but when Ragnar started hacking..." Soon others joined us, quietly talking of the beauty they had just witnessed. I couldn't disagree. It had been gruesome, terrible... But magnificent.

"It is no doubt the harshest, most cruel way to die," Rollo spoke. He wore a satisfied expression.

"I can think of some that may rival it," I told my cup. I felt eyes staring at me, not believing the words came from me, the quiet, kind, usually soft-spoken foreigner. The woman who cried every time a goat was sacrificed. I gazed up, seeing Rollo eyeing me with disbelief, as did Floki and Bjorn.

"No doubt you know better than I the need to amputate limbs on the battlefield, and how painful that is. Imagine you are tied up to a wooden frame by your enemy, wielding a sharp blade and plenty of time. He slices just the tip of your finger, just enough to leave you in pain. The wound is too big to heal on its own and starts to fester eventually. Every time you seem to recover from the pain, he moves to another finger. A toe, an ear, your nose. Slowly but steadily, he cuts you to pieces, until your legs and arms have mostly gone. He gives you food and drink and heals any bleeding that might end you. He keeps you alive to torture you, day after day, night after night. When there is nothing left to cut, they cut open your belly and let you starve. It can take weeks." Bjorn shifted around uncomfortably, then got up to get us more drinks. Floki giggled, his eyes twinkling as if wanting to try that out on someone.

"What about the other ones?" Rollo asked, his interest piqued.

"A second one is similar, but instead of cutting, the skin is flayed. Piece by piece, your skin disappears, until the pain gets so bad you beg to have the flayed piece cut off. The hands and feet are easy, but the rest..." I left them to imagine how it would feel to have to beg someone to cut off their dicks.

"Then, there is one that's a bit more sophisticated. You're tied to the ground with your belly sliced open just enough for your entrails to be held out. There's no bleeding, no real damage. Not until something sweet like honey is slathered over your organs, then you are left to the sun. Insects will be drawn to the honey and eat out your intestines while you are still alive. With water and honey to keep a man alive, it can take up to nine days to die."

"Who would have thought such a sweet and innocent girl would be so well versed in such monstrous ways of torture," Rollo said. "I was wondering when you'd show your war side, vessel of Freyja."

"Ragnhild knows more than she lets on, that's for sure," Floki grinned. "Who knows, she could prove useful in Paris. No doubt she'll be of help with her wisdom on all things she despises." Bjorn returned with more drinks, eager to find out if I'd stopped talking about slicing off body parts.

"Never get on her bad side again, Bjorn. She'll have you begging for your life," Rollo told him. Bjorn let out a sigh as if to say he already knew that.

"Tell me, how would you scale walls fifteen feet tall?" Was Floki implying I helped strategize on how to take Paris? Bjorn seemed surprised by the change of subject but kept quiet. I was just glad to be given a puzzle, getting my mind away from terrible ways to die.

"Paris is located on an island, right?" Floki nodded. "Well, that means there must be a bridge connecting it to the mainland. If the walls are as high as you say, there will probably be stone watchtowers at either end of the bridge. Those would be difficult to take, as that's the point that will be defended by all of their forces. A battering ram could prove very useful, but you want to divide their attention." Rollo grunted in approval. They had come to the same conclusion.

"The Seine's water is calm, which makes it easy to land on the edges of the island and climb the walls. If Paris is as impregnable as you all say, they'll have prepared for that, though. Rope can be easily cut, ladders can be pushed back... Tunneling is impossible because of the water, and too dangerous... A siege tower can be easily burned if they have oil... Give me a second," I said as I got up. I got a sharp piece of charcoal from the fireplace and sat back down. I drew a crude picture of the river and the wall, trying to remember how broad the Seine was. I jotted down some calculations. If the land surrounding the river was fairly flat, just maybe... I glanced up at the men who were watching my scribbles, trying to make sense of it. "How bad would it be if we might destroy half the city?" Floki got a devilish grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

After telling them of the contraption I had in mind, Rollo went to fetch Ragnar. Floki was so excited he seemed to be dancing around in his seat. Bjorn just stared at me in disbelief, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"What have we done to you," he whispered. "Why didn't I know of this side of you sooner?"

"You never asked," I said with a sly smile. I enjoyed talking about the things I knew, and others didn't. I just never imagined I'd have some use from the strategy games I used to play. And after all Bjorn had taught me about the gods and what they all meant, I felt like showing off a bit. I wasn't the only ignorant savage. "There is much about me you don't know, even though you're getting to know me a little more each day." I kissed him on the lips, but he was too dazed to respond.

"You weren't kidding when you told me you were full of surprises," he just said. Ragnar came in, followed by Rollo. "How do you even come up with those kinds of things?"

"Does it matter? You told me not everything needs an answer." This time, he kissed me back.

"Ragnhild?" I looked up, seeing Ragnar had changed into something less bloody. "Rollo tells me you might just have solved a problem."

"Yes, it seems so... Do you remember a week ago, when Sigurd threw those peas at Ivar?"

"Of course I do, Aslaug is still mad about it. What does it have to do with tearing down walls?"

"Well, imagine the spoon is at least a hundred times larger, and the peas are huge rocks, aimed at the walls of Paris." His reluctance turned into a glint of joy. Ragnar sat down next to me, and I pointed at the drawing at the table. "It would look a little like this, with reinforced plates of iron on these places, and plenty of rope there, and here. The river is about thirty feet wide I think, so the distance shouldn't be a problem. Then with the trajectory starting off a little lower than where you want to hit the wall, we need to reach a speed of about -" Ragnar silenced me with a hand.

"How do you know all this?" I just smiled, chuckling a bit.

"You can blood eagle a man, I can build you a err..."

"This is one of those things we don't have a word for, right? What else don't we have the words for?"

"Eternal fire without fire, iron horses that don't need rest, flying boats..." Ragnar regretted asking the question.

"Do you have any proof it will work when we get there? Have you ever built such a thing before?"

"I've never even seen one," I scoffed. "But I heard of its destructive force, especially against enemies who aren't prepared for it." Now Ragnar had to laugh, and I could see how this might have sounded more than a little strange.

"Scared of death and blood and violence, but willing to help us raze a city to the ground," Ragnar mused. "Sometimes, you make no sense." I wasn't sure how to feel about that, either. Talking about something and doing them were two completely separate things. "If you can make a model that works, you'll join us when we go to Paris. Floki will help you." I smiled painfully as my hypothetical puzzling now had turned into a real-life project. So much for letting go a bit and forgetting about the horrors of this life. Bjorn seemed to relax a bit though, recognizing my uneasiness. That part of me, he knew.


	79. Sanctimonious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-04-802

The only one unimpressed with the project Floki and I were working on was Athelstan. He had never fully forgiven me for giving up Paris to begin with, and since a few days he'd started wearing his cowl again, openly wearing a cross on his chest, claiming to be reborn. His fervor reminded me of all the things I hated about his faith. So much for him doubting his god.

"How is it you have changed so much since I last went to England? You were a sweet, soft-spoken woman. Seeing Lucky being sacrificed was enough to make you cry for a week, and now you plan on helping to raze a city and was part of a plan to kill an earl. How could you stray away from God like that?" He was wearing my patience thin, had so ever since he regained his faith. These were my decisions to make, his trying to interfere only made want to prove him wrong. There was no God, and his so-called vision was just a figment of his imagination, or drug-induced.

"You missed a lot when you were with King Ecbert. Who are you to judge me for adapting to life here? Haven't you raided with Ragnar? Didn't you change almost as much as me when you first got here?" I tried to walk on towards the beach, where Floki was waiting for me. Athelstan grabbed me by the arm, forcing me to come to a halt again.

"I can't let you go on with this. Raiding a monastery is one thing, but destroying a city..." I released my arm from his grip and walked on. "You can't do this, Ragnhild. You have to see for yourself this is madness!" I ignored him, wishing I had earplugs to drown out his pleas. He followed me all the way to the beach, where Floki had already loaded all of the supplies. He was using a knife to pick dirt out from underneath his nails. Athelstan was still there, prattling on about why I should rethink my decision.

"You need God in your life, you need to find the strength to forgive yourself. No one else can help you with that." I turned back at him, anger quickly rising to the surface.

"You want me to believe in God? What has he ever done for me? You make it sound like he is the answer to everything. Why would you even think I need forgiveness from myself? If anything, I need to forgive others for what they have done to me. And I won't give away control over my life to some guy who is supposed to know everything about me. It took me too long to feel like I was in control over what happens to me, and I will do as I damn well please. And right now, I feel like getting in that boat with Floki and help raid Paris." Without a word to Floki, I threw my stuff into the rowing boat. Floki seemed just as disinterested in Athelstan's words as I was. He shoved the rowing boat into the water and jumped in. I almost fell over when I got in as well, the skirts of my dress being less wide than I'd thought.

"If you don't listen to me..." Athelstan tried a last time.

"Then what? Seven plagues will haunt me? Will God smite me? I'll be branded an apostate?"

"Then may Maria watch over us all," he said. The blood in my face disappeared. Was he threatening me? Would he really lord that secret over my head to try and save a city he once visited? Before I got back to my senses, Floki had put some distance between us and the shore, which was a good thing.

"That sanctimonious piece of shit! Who the fuck does he think he is?" Floki just smiled at me, happy to hear someone else share in his dislike of the priest. "He and his god can stick it where the fucking sun doesn't shine. Talking to me like that, thinking I'm still a fucking Christian. I stopped believing in that crap a long time ago, and he just won't fucking accept that. Do I look like a lost sheep to you? Do I look like I need to be saved from eternal damnation?"

"I thought you were friends," Floki said. "You always got along before."

"We were. He may have taught me our language, for which I am still grateful, but that doesn't mean I owe him anything. He doesn't get to hold that over my head for all eternity. He should've stayed in England, where he belongs. Fucking hypocrite. You know, when he just got back he was talking to me about how he had started to doubt that god of his. He went against all he believed there, and as a result, he fled back to us. And one, only one fucking dream and he's all priestly again? Appearing as a ray of light, please... He calls me insane for wanting to go to Paris, but he's the one that lost his fucking mind." Floki just giggled and kept on rowing. The gentle sway forced me to calm down, if only because I was starting to get nauseous.

"You never told me you used to believe in the same god as Athelstan did." I shuddered as I tried to hold in my guts.

"Does it surprise you?"

"I'm surprised you never told me. We've talked about the gods a great deal, why not mention you used to believe in a false one? Were you ashamed?"

"If anyone should feel ashamed, it's that fucking hypocrite they worship. You know I have no love for him. I wouldn't be surprised if I hate that faith more than you." Floki sped up his tempo, as if he were angry at my words. "I know you don't like other faiths, I just meant -"

"Have you ever killed a Christian over his faith? Does that not show my hatred for them?"

"There's a hate you can only have for that which you know. I know that holy book of Athelstan's back and forth. I don't just hate it because it is a false god and a false faith. I hate it because of the pain and suffering it brought me. I hate it because I know it is wrong, it's more than just a feeling."

"The same way you hated Kalf?" I took a deep breath and sat back a bit.

"Kalf was... Different."

"Oh, that much I noticed. The things you said, I've heard those before."

"Have you spoken them?" He shrugged. "Floki?"

"What will you do when I say yes? Cut off my balls?"

"That depends, do you have a dull, rusty blade on hand?" He sneered at me, knowing I'd never be able to take him on.

"If Kalf spoke true, he had every right to use those girls."

"You know how I feel about servants, and about rape."

"What did you ever hope to achieve?"

"It's none of your business." I crossed my arms, not liking how this was turning into a fight.

"We're friends, are we not? Do I not know how badly you were hurt?" I let out a sigh but kept my eyes on the water as I spoke.

"It helped to heal me," I admitted.

"Then I know enough." Was it really that easy? "I know more than you think. Just watching you was enough to discern most of it. If repeating those words to Kalf helped you get over it, his death is all the more satisfying to me. Although you might have noticed Torstein has shied away from you since, if only a little." Shying away from me was a bit of an understatement. I rarely saw him at all, and if I did, it was but for a second.

"I noticed. I figured he was terrified of me finding out he too likes to make use of the girls."

"He has two wives and two small children. He's in need of some distraction. This isn't your world, and you should know that by now. You can't expect us all to adapt to your way of life when you so barely know of ours."

"I've been learning."

"But you haven't been doing. The gods are cruel and hard, and we take what little joy we can find. Bjorn told me I should ask you myself, of what you experienced that time before Yol."

"I'd rather swim the rest of the way to your boatyard." I didn't even know what had happened. How was I to explain it to someone like Floki, who knew more of the gods than anyone I knew? "What did Bjorn let on?"

"That he barely had started."

"You know what he meant to do?"

"I do. It's from an ancient story, closely connected to Freyja. Did he not tell you?"

"I didn't want to hear. I don't think back to it fondly."

"Oh, but you should. It's a tale from long before the war between the Æsir and the Vanir. There's a reason we call it the gold of the bee, and mead is a known enhancer for fertility."

"Excuse me?" Bjorn had been very keen on having me drink mead lately...

"Did you not know? Mead is so much more than just a drink. It's mystical, and it comes from Vanaheim."

"It seems Bjorn has been remiss in telling me about it. He hasn't neglected to keep up the supply at home, though." Floki giggled, making the boat wobble. Instinctively I leaned to the side.

"Has it worked already?"

"Have you..." I swallowed it down, with some difficulty. "Did you already forget about the trip to Egersund? I'm not with child, Floki. I know that to be true."

"Is that one of the things you just know?"

"It's one of those things all women can know." He looked at me through narrowed eyes, then cleared his throat. "So, this honey thing," I reminded him. He perked up a bit again.

"It's an ancient rite, meant to help find the man who will get you with child. It's not that popular anymore, except for young lovers who like the slippery mess it makes. The man rubs honey all over the skin of his lover, and they have sex."

"And then what?"

"If something happens, it's a sign of the gods. So I wonder, will you soon bear his children?" What was it with this obsession everyone had over me getting with child?

"He hardly got started. There was just some honey on my arms when I tore off the blindfold he'd put around my eyes."

"Why would he have blindfolded you?"

"He wanted me to feel the gods, not wait for something I could see." Bjorn probably had wanted to have kinky sex afterward, as well.

"And what really happened? According to you?"

"How do you know these things? Who taught you, anyway? How come you have all the answers?" Floki gave me a look telling me he just knew.

"You're not the only one that just knows things, sweet Ragnhild. Now tell me, what happened? What did you feel?" I took a second to collect my thoughts, returning to the moment.

"I felt... Warmth. And then I panicked when Bjorn was seemingly everywhere." Floki scowled at me.

"I can't tell you shit based on that."

"I felt everything. The heat of the fire, it was... It nearly suffocated me and didn't touch me at the same time. I could feel his breath on my skin, and the cold tufts of wind coming in through the walls. Just the air was enough to make my skin tingle. Except when he touched me, that was... Cool, like a pleasant breeze on a day that's too warm. Like the spray of the ocean on your face when it hits the rocks you stand on. And there was this... This music, I think. It was like Bjorn was chanting, but he was too busy kissing me all over. It couldn't have been him. There was a faint drum, and some... I don't know. I didn't recognize the words or the tune. It must have lasted half an hour before I realized Bjorn was in too many places at the same time and I panicked. That's when I tore off the blindfold." Floki had stopped rowing. I didn't dare look up at him, fearing this was another fart.

"You row for a bit," he finally said. "I need to think." After a few seconds, I realized he was serious. We'd make poor time, but I took the oars in hand and did my best. He grunted as he saw me at it, making me even more confused.

"Floki?"

"You did this before."

"We did have boats, where I come from. The oars were a bit different, but an oar is an oar. Not everything was spectacular like those siege weapons." He leaned forward and pushed at my forehead with his index finger. It only made him more agitated.

"You're infuriating," he stated.

"Then do you even want to hear what happened next?" His eyes narrowed as if he was hard-pressed to believe me. "I had the strangest dream afterward."

"More honey?"

"More music that wasn't there. I saw people coming towards me while I was caught in a snow drift, in the market square. They walked past as if I wasn't even there. I couldn't see under their hoods, nor could I touch them. Their robes brushed against me, but they didn't feel me, either. And there was this voice that called out, I can't remember what she said. When Bjorn woke me up, he said I'd been singing in my sleep. It was the strangest song, about reversed lightning." Floki rubbed his face, smudging his kohl.

"The more you say, the less I understand of it. The gods are cruel indeed, to have me trying to make sense of you at a time like this."

"Why would now be a bad time for it?"

"You wouldn't understand," he sneered.

"You sound just like Athelstan," I shot back. "He thinks I don't know what's going on, either."

"Just keep rowing, before I throw you overboard."


	80. The Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22-04-802

Over the course of the next days, Floki and I spent a lot of time together. I slept there in order to work for as long as possible each day, as Ragnar didn't want us to take too long. Sometimes Bjorn would come by, interrupting his training. I'd show him the progress we made, how our experiments had panned out, and what we were thinking of next. He'd listen to me for half an hour or so, and then take me off into the woods, away from Floki's giggling in the background.

We barely went back to the village, mostly to gather supplies and talk to Ragnar about the progress we made. Today we'd stay in Kattegat for the night, and Helga was with us as well. There was a feast planned, and Floki had rowed us back to civilization. When I was back in the village I avoided Athelstan. He seemed to be shunned by most people, and soon I'd heard about how he had thrown his arm ring into the fjord. I could only shake my head at that. The priest had always been an outcast because of his religion, but now it seemed like he was trying to be different actively. It proved difficult to avoid him when we ate, as Athelstan was seated beside me.

"Can we talk?" he asked. I just kept focusing on my plate. "Please, I just want to talk to you."

"What is it you want to talk about? Jesus? Paris? Because we can surely have a quiet, civilized conversation on those topics."

"No. I want to ask you about the wanderer." Horik had sent him over, he must have been terrified of Ragnar after seeing what happened to Jarl Borg.

"They found him?"

"Yes. He didn't seem happy to be brought in. Do you know anything about it?"

"I was at Floki's all this time, I didn't even know he was found," I lied. Normally that took a little more effort and bending of my ethics. Athelstan had really pissed me off last time we saw.

"Ragnar introduced him to me. He seemed a bit odd. And, well, he can speak many languages, like you do. I thought maybe you know some he does as well."

"I doubt that." Athelstan looked at me curiously.

"How could you know without talking to him?"

"Just a feeling, I guess."

"Wanderers always move from place to place, who knows where he's been. Aren't you curious to find out?"

"Not really. I already know the answer. Sometimes, I just know things. You know I can't always explain it," I said.

"When we first met you said you came from Frisia, or somewhere around there. Is it really so hard to believe he's been there?" Athelstan was speaking too loud for my taste, and I had to do my best to keep from hissing at him to shut up.

"Some places you can't travel to. I might as well say I come from the moon."

"Why can't you answer such a simple question?"

"Because the answer is really complicated. Can we drop it? I don't want to talk about it right now."

"You never want to talk about it."

"Then why must you press on?" Athelstan finally dropped his questioning, instead putting some more food on his plate.

"Ragnar wants you to meet him. He has similar questions." I narrowed my eyes and glanced his way. "I just want you to know that up front. I don't know what you plan on telling him, but he'll have questions of his own."

"Thank you, I appreciate your concern." My mind was racing. How much had I told the priest? Would it be enough to put the pieces together? I cursed myself for all the clues I had inadvertently given him. Asking him what year it was might have been the biggest mistake I had made, right at the start. I was so lost in thought, I didn't even see Ragnar approaching me.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," he whispered in my ear. I almost dropped my cup. I put it down and got up, following Ragnar to the backside of the hall. He pulled back the curtains and gestured for me to enter. He came to stand beside me, keeping some distance from the stranger. His hair was so light, it was almost white. It offset his dark eyes, but the most noticeable about the man was the large beak of a nose that seemed to cover most of his face. He lay back on some pillows, relaxing as if he had simply not wanted to get up, instead of being held captive.

"Sinric, this is the woman I told you of. The one that comes from a land I can't hope to reach for a thousand years." He eyed me warily, not knowing what to make of such a claim.

"Well then, how did she manage to come here herself? Surely she's making up stories."

"I thought so too, at first. But somehow, I tend to believe her. She seems to think the world is different from how we know it to be."

"What would she know of the world?"

"I thought she might be a wanderer who lost her way." The man just scoffed.

"I'll be the judge of that. Tell me, girl, what languages do you speak?" I eyed the man warily, not knowing if to answer with the truth. Though, if anyone might be able to give me answers, it might be a man like him, beyond the reach of any god.

"Why would you ask that of me?" I asked in modern-day English. "Does it not make more sense to get to know me beyond my language skills? Am I not worth more than the knowledge I have?"

"Or do you only want to know where I've been, judging by the way I speak the tongues I know? What makes you think you can understand who I am and where I've been?" I added in Dutch.

"Or do you just want to make sure you are still worth something? Do you feel threatened by my presence? Do you ravel in being needed?" German was a little more difficult, but I managed.

The wanderer did not know what to make of such a palette of language, no matter how little he seemed to understand.

"She speaks too many tongues to not have traveled. Yet she seems to twist and turn them around, as if mixing all of them together, with elements I do not understand. It is almost as if she speaks all, and none at the same time." Sinric sat up straight for a bit, trying to stare right through me. His eyes went wide as he seemed to realize something.

"Take that demon child away from me! She speaks the truth, but between her words are a knowing that is not of this world!" Could he have guessed what my secret was, based on what I had just said? What had Athelstan told him?

"What do you mean by that?" Ragnar asked. He made no attempt to get me away from the man.

"Even among us wanderers, we have tales and legends of our own. There is one tale, told only on moonless nights in the depth of winter. It is told there are wanderers like us, who don't just wander from place to place. They have ways of traveling that defy the very nature of this earth. Those are evil spirits, come to punish us. She is capable of changing the world as we know it, in whatever way she wishes, but the ones who stay too close to her are the ones to pay the price. I cannot travel with you to Paris. I will not. Not if she will come with."

I stared at the man in disbelief. He knew I didn't belong here. The Seer had told Ragnar about me being able to change the world, but the wanderer had now told him in no uncertain words I didn't come from this world, from this time. If he thought to think outside of the box...

Ragnar cast a glance at me, as is to find the terror I could unleash on him.

"This little whip? You think her capable of destroying the world? She doesn't have the guts to kill a mouse."

"There are many ways to bring forth destruction. Do not dismiss her power so lightly. What she lacks in physical strength, her mind makes up for tenfold. You must force her to leave if you want to live a peaceful life." At that, Ragnar smiled.

"Viking know nothing of peace. We'd rather die than never raid again. If anything, your words have made me want to keep her around." The wanderer seemed defeated, lowering his eyes, hoping to avoid my gaze. "Don't think I won't hold you against your will. You will come to Paris, and I will use force if I need to."

"You misunderstand me, Ragnar Lothbrok. She is not like us. I have come across many faiths, and all of them have a darkness that can bring on the end of time. She is that darkness." He thought me capable of bringing on Ragnarok? The Final Judgment? I had to try my hardest to keep from flinching.

"We know what will bring on the end of time, Sinric. Do you really think she was sent by Loki? Or Surtur? You know nothing of our faith, and what will be the end of the world. You know even less than I. Now, let's talk of how to get to Paris." 

"As I said, I'd rather die." I lowered myself to the wanderer's level and put a hand on his face. He was scared. I saw it run through every fiber of his being. His threat was not an idle one.

"Do not fear me, I mean you no harm. Would you agree to come if I promise to stay away from you? I'll never consider you someone close to me." The wanderer was still afraid, not knowing what to make of my words.

"Your promises mean nothing to me. You are death incarnate."

"All you have to do is guide us to the mouth of the Seine and translate for us if need be. I can promise not to change the world before you have left our company."

"How foolish do you think I am? I know you might not mean it, but change the world you shall."

"Then help me change it for the better. If you can help the world for the better, is that not worth your life?"

"Not if you mean to guide the Viking to victory. My own influence is of little consequence, but yours can outshine the sun itself." Playing the good cop wasn't working, I had to try it another way.

"Then who are you to defy the sun? Trying to denounce your own influence when it was you who guided Ragnar west, is that not cowardice?"

"We guide towards the future that was meant to be. You guide the future towards change and uncertainty. And change is the cradle of death." He was useless. Nothing he could say would help me find out why I was here, or what I was meant to do. He was only good to help us get to the Seine, who knew what he would do afterward? Any translation might just be a trap.

"Then I ask of you, make me see the future more clearly. What can you see that I don't? How are you able to see the changes you bring, and I feel like a blind woman stumbling around to find where to go? Every step I take is uncertain, not knowing what I could change. Would you not help me make sense of what I am and what I can do? Would you not try and guide me towards a peaceful path? Would you abandon the world to my ignorance, knowing you might influence my path for the better?" Ragnar stood by, just as confused as the wanderer. The only difference was that Ragnar was able to hide it better. The wanderer still didn't seem convinced, but I had brought doubt to his mind.

"For all your innocence, I know you will condemn the world. And yet... You seem unaware of your influence. If anything, that only makes you more dangerous." His words were still harsh, but his tone had changed. Jarl Borg had mentioned the same only shortly ago, making me wonder how much I still couldn't see.

"Do you feel like you might be able to help me make the right decisions?" The wanderer let out a deep sigh.

"You leave me little choice. It seems this meeting was fated."

"Does that mean you will help Ragnar?"

"It means I will help guide him to the Seine."

"That is all I ask." I felt like the wanderer could only go back on his words from here. I bowed down deep, thanking him for his wisdom.

For all my fear of being found out, I wanted to know why I was here just as badly as Ragnar seemed to want to find out where I came from. I walked away, and as I felt the leather-strip curtain close behind me, I left him alone with his thoughts. I thought this would be all for tonight, but Ragnar had followed me out and touched my arm lightly.

"What just happened?" he asked. He nodded towards a dark corner where we could talk in private. I followed him, bracing myself for what was to come. He had questions, and I couldn't answer much.

"I think he knows more of me and where I came from than anyone I ever met before, including the Seer." Ragnar looked pensive, but not judging. It made me wonder if he had even heard that bit where the wanderer had called me death incarnate. "Maybe he has met others like me or at least heard of others like me. As far as I know, I just appeared at that lake one day, but his words convinced me it's not as irregular as I once thought. I'm dying to find out what he knows."

"As am I. You really know how to get me more curious about your secret every time I find out something." I didn't want to begin talking about that again, not with now two people around me so close to connecting the final dots.

"I feel like I should give him some time to get used to my presence before he will reveal all he knows. I'm not sure if he can tell me anything more, to be honest, and I have no idea why he would call me death incarnate."

"That doesn't even surprise me," Ragnar said with a dismissive gesture. "You are the vessel of Freyja, after all. But I am curious, as his words seemed to make more sense to you than they did to me." That was one less thing to worry about, but it did little to calm the storm inside.

"Only a bit. He might not understand what he said himself, but it is clear his people know more of how I got here than I do at this moment. He heard stories, but he doesn't know just what I am, other than that he thinks I am a threat to him. If the decision was mine, I'd think it smart to let him sail on a different boat than mine, so he feels safe enough to reveal more when he feels the time is right." At least that would make him tell us how to find the Seine.

"That sounds reasonable. But what do you think of him?"

"I believe him when he says he'll guide you, but I don't know for how long that will be. I felt like he was speaking only half a truth. He will try and run away at the first possible chance, if he's anything like me. How much would you truly need him after he guides you to the mouth of the Seine?" As I said the words, I realized I wasn't as much bothered by my blind spot anymore. The wanderer was worried about me, and the words I spoke felt fairly objective, or at the least, they were reasonable. I was learning.

"If need be, I will need him to translate for us. Athelstan will prove to be useful in that regard, but he hasn't given me an answer yet as to if he's planning on coming with us. With our friend there, the wanderer is of no direct use after he guides us to the right river."

"Then I will keep my distance from the wanderer."

"You mean you'd stay here? Would you really put yourself beneath a wanderer like that?"

"Is that not the definition of sacrifice?" Ragnar smiled, for the first time since he had dragged me off to meet Sinric. "Paris must be worth more to you than the secrets that surround me."

"You actually want to come with us. What changed?" I looked away and avoided his question. He'd been talking to Bjorn about my knowledge of all things godly, and it showed I now knew what I was talking about.

"All I ask is to be on the same boat as Bjorn if I happen to join you."

"You never have asked me for much, even as I made you a free woman. Why do you require so little of me? I might almost think of it as unsettling." Ragnar must have noticed I was pushing myself lately. It wasn't all that hard to notice for someone who thought to look.

"I require little to be happy and stay happy. Having your trust means more to me than any amount of treasure I could possibly hope to own."

"Yet you are together with my son. Would that not count as a treasure?"

"I do not judge a man by his father's actions. I am happy to be with Bjorn for the man he is, not for the man you are. Having you be his family is just a coincidence."

"There are plenty of women willing to do horrible things to you if that means they could be with him." I'd noticed. I'd seen. No one had dared tell me to my face, but I knew when people were talking about me behind my back. After all the fighting we did since Kalf came to town, it was no surprise. Still, it hurt. Even as things had settled down between the two of us, the crooked looks and hushed tones had remained.

"And me not being willing to do that, and love him for the man he is, that is what makes us love each other even more. All I can do is keep working to get used to living here with Bjorn, and all that entails. Whether that requires me to make a sacrifice or seduce a man I do not know." Ragnar's expression softened as he saw I was honest with him.

"Did you spend a lot of time talking that over with Bjorn?"

"We wanted to tell you that I wouldn't go through with it four separate times. I won't lie, it was hard on the both of us. He wanted me to know what I'd get myself into, but he left the decision to me. I couldn't ask for anything more. I decided to do it not just because I feel like I owe you something, but because I wanted to prove to myself that I am both willing and capable of doing such things in order to protect Kattegat. I want to prove to myself I am worthy of becoming Bjorn's wife."

"And you assume he might become earl after me," Ragnar said with a smile.

"I won't deny the thought has crossed my mind. You still haven't decided on it. Ubbe is still too young to take over, and Bjorn would be the sensible choice. He has experience raiding and knows what to expect from having learned from you. I want to be able to help him if that possibility ever becomes a reality."

"But what do you want? Do you desire to become a princess?"

"If I did, I'd have thrown myself at Bjorn as soon as I found out who he was. You know what I want, Ragnar, you've known it for a while. Part of why it all took so long for us to move in was because I was having difficulty accepting that was a part of being with him. And you know that, so I'm a little confused as to why you even bother asking me." He couldn't have forgotten about Arvid's proposal, or what Kalf had been planning. Ragnar was hoping to hear something from me, but I didn't know what.

"Why do you love my son?" The question brought a smile to my face, and to my heart.

"Because he makes me feel safe. He makes me feel like I am the only one in the world that matters. He loves me because of my flaws, not despite them. He accepts me for who I am, and even though it has been difficult at times, we love each other enough to reach a compromise when we encounter such things. I love him enough to relent on some things I don't agree on with him, and he does the same for me. We are still able to be who we are, and instead of fighting over things we don't like about each other, we try and make it work for the both of us." Ragnar sighed at that.

"That sounds much better than what I have." Knowing about his troubles with Aslaug, I kept my mouth shut. If he wanted to talk about it to me, he'd do it of his own accord. "Being married to Lagertha was so much easier. We both knew what to expect from the other, and we could always reach a middle ground." It sounded like he still loved his first wife, the way he spoke of her ever so softly. "Never give up on those you love because of something silly as a prophecy," he advised me.

"If I were to believe in such things, they'd still have to pry Bjorn from my cold dead hands before I ever let him go," I promised. "I love that man beyond all reason. The way he seems to know what I need and what I want from life... Sometimes he seems to know me better than I know myself."

"Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?"

"It should be. I know it isn't always that way, but knowing it's possible, I wish everyone would know our kind of love at least once." Ragnar seemed to grimace, but his face was neutral as soon as I thought I saw the emotion play on his face.

"Would you love him even if he made mistakes that are unforgivable?" I was a bit surprised at his question.

"If Bjorn were ever to doubt any action he was to make and think my advice useful, I'd help him. If he were to make a mistake, I'd assume he made it because he didn't know the full story and I might blame him for not asking the right questions. But making mistakes is not what I judge people on. It's far wiser to judge them on how they deal with the mistake. Being willing to take responsibility for it, trying to make it right, that tells me what kind of man he is. I consider mistakes to be chances to learn something, not a means to punish those who make them. How else are we to learn and do better next time?"

"You have given me a lot to think about. Please, join the feast." I bowed my head lightly and left Ragnar alone with his thoughts. No doubt he had to come up with a way to deal with the consequences of the talk between me and the wanderer. I soon found Bjorn and kissed him in a way that made the people around us howl in either jealousy or joy.

"Where did that come from," he whispered as I finally let him go. I sat down on his lap, wanting to feel his body close to mine. I put one hand around his neck, the other drifting across his chest.

"You have no idea how much I love you. You have no idea how much I care about you, and how badly I want you to be happy."

"I'll just enjoy this then, until you don't feel as strongly about me."

"You can wait a long time then. I intend to keep you close to me for as long as I live."

"Well, that's a bit difficult if you keep working on those things all the time. I miss having you around."

"I miss you, too. But staying the night there is just so much easier. I know you wouldn't like it if I tried to make my way back in the dark. And the more time we spend on it, the sooner I'll be back."

"I know, I know. How much longer do you think it will take?"

"I'm not sure. Floki seems to want to try some different constructions. It shouldn't be much longer than two weeks, though. We're confident enough we can make a working model. Floki pulled apart one of the older boats, that's saved us a lot of time."

"Then you will be joining the raid..."

"You don't sound that enthusiastic about it."

"I'm not. I'd rather have you back here, safe and sound." His hand almost drifted to my stomach, but I caught it.

"If you're worried about your little scheme, don't. Floki told me about the mead." Bjorn flushed a bright red. He tried to look away, but I could only laugh at it.

"Bjorn, I told you. We'll see what happens. We don't need mead or herbs, or for you to fuck me when there's a pot of pickled herring to the south. And you know I don't plan on fighting in the shield wall."

"There's plenty of ways to get hurt during a raid." He kept his eyes on my chest, letting his hands swirl over my back and legs.

"I know. I'll be careful, you know that. I have to say, the thought of leaving Kattegat for a while actually sounds kind of nice. I used to go traveling everywhere all the time." Bjorn sighed, as if he was wondering if he'd have to explain to me going raiding wasn't like a fun trip just to get away for a while. "You'll be there to protect me. What could go wrong?"

"Way too much."

"We still have some time before we take off."

"Only two or three weeks."

"Two weeks is a long time."

"And I'll miss you when you're up at Floki's all that time."

"But I'm here now. If you really miss me that much, why are we not at home already?" Bjorn picked me up and carried me off, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.


	81. Learning How To Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-04-802

Since the feast and with the new deadline looming over our heads, Floki would scowl when Bjorn came by, knowing I'd take a long break to be with him. Mostly we'd find a quiet spot in the forest, away from Floki's muttering. Walking underneath the trees, the sunlight brushing past the leaves, I felt completely at ease with Bjorn's arm over my shoulders.

"I don't want you to come," he said out of the blue. "I'm worried you might get hurt, or worse. What if you're with child already? Then I could lose you, and the baby." His eyes pleaded his case further.

"There are plenty of reasons for me to stay here. I know that. Half of the time I'm scared just thinking about the trip there. I mean - do I have to shit in a bucket like on the way to Egersund? That was just disgusting. And what if there's a storm? I know I'll get seasick. Anyway, I did mention how it depends on how the wanderer feels about me, right? If Ragnar thinks it'll make him less likely to help, I'll stay here." Bjorn sighed and shook his head.

"Ragnar decided you're to come with." I'd be going? Despite the chances of Sinric causing trouble? "I'm worried about you being there. What if you get hurt in the fighting? I can't stand the thought of losing you."

"And I'm scared of losing you. If I can help break down the walls, make it easier to raid the city, it'll increase the odds of ever seeing you back alive. I love you too much to not want to share in that risk." Bjorn grabbed hold of my face and kissed me. He kissed me with such a passion, I almost fell down. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him back with equal fire.

My back hit a nearby tree. Bjorn pushed me against it, still unrelenting in our kiss. His hands wandered across my body. I felt his lean body through his leather armor, wishing he would take it off. Right now he was mine, not some Viking prince. Bjorn was just as eager as me, tearing at the lace that held my dress together. My nipples went hard as they touched the soft spring air, my ragged breathing forming tufts of mist.

"I won't let you go," he promised between kisses. "I'll never let you go." I was pretty sure he was speaking of both Paris and his embrace.

"Then I'll keep you here with me," I returned. "I'll trap you and never let you go." Bjorn broke off the kissing but held a firm grip.

"Don't say that. You have no idea what you speak of. I'm serious, Ragnhild."

"So am I, Bjorn. I will go to Paris with you, and I will keep you here if you try to hold me back. Now are you going to fuck me, or were you planning to tie me to this tree?"

"Don't give me any ideas," he warned me. "I might just try."

"I might want you to try." Bjorn pushed his body against mine, raising my hands above my head. I had trouble looking up at him to meet his eyes, sensing he was straining to hold back. There wasn't just anger between us, I could feel his erection. I bit my lip, feeling myself getting aroused.

"How can you make me so angry and make me want to fuck you at the same time?"

"How come you can't make up your mind?" He grunted in frustration and let a hand down. He lowered his pants and pulled up my skirts. I wrapped my legs around his waist, allowing him to lift me up a little and stand upright as he entered me. My hands wrapped around his neck, him keeping my legs up, he fucked out all of his anger. He thrust hard and fast, my body heating up as I kept on moaning louder and louder.

When he put his head next to mine I felt him relax. We put our clothes back on, and as Bjorn picked a piece of bark out of my hair, he spoke.

"If you want to go to Paris, at least let me show you how to defend yourself a little." With his anger out, he was trying to reach a compromise.

"That sounds fair." Just as we moved in for a kiss Floki walked past, muttering about something underneath his breath, axe in hand. He had a fire in his step, no doubt he'd be looking for just the right tree for one of his projects. His temper had flared up lately, so I felt glad he went to finally blow off some steam. He ignored us, I wasn't even sure if he'd seen us.

"By the looks of it, I just got the afternoon off. Where do you want to start?"

"Rollo keeps complaining about that black eye you gave him. How did you do that?"

"That's err..."

"Just show me," he sighed. I put up my fists, earning me a snort.

"Why do you even want me to fight like this? If there's a threat coming my way I'm sure he'll carry a sword."

"If I give you a sword, you'll try to fight with it. No way I'm letting you touch one. You don't know a thing about fighting if you got Rollo with a lucky punch." I knew he didn't mean it as an insult, but he hurt my feelings all the same.

"I know how a sword works," I said with a huff. Bjorn just raised his eyebrow.

"And how do you imagine it works?"

"Just stick 'em with the pointy end." Bjorn looked like he didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

"Yeah, no. Not going to happen. Here, let's give this a try. It might just give you a large enough advantage to get away and hide." Bjorn showed me some moves that were pretty close to wrestling. He wanted me to try and get him to the ground, at which I miserably failed. Trying to get out of his grip was even harder. Aside from the difference in height and weight, I simply lacked the muscle. All I got for an afternoon of trying were quite a few bruises and an inkling of why Bjorn was so worried about me.

"Maybe with some luck I'll be able to take on a child," I sighed miserably.

"If you think you can take on Ubbe or Hvitserk, you are delusional," Bjorn said with a pained smile. "They have had more training than you, and at least they know how to use a shield." Great. I was useless if I ever were to face an attacker. My best chance of survival would be to run away. And even then, the odds would be slim. 


	82. The Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 08-05-802

A week later, Ragnar came by to check on the progress. Bjorn must have kept him in the loop because we were just about to test a bigger version of a successful model. Floki went through the details, explaining what wood worked best for what parts. Ragnar seemed impressed but was dying to see it in action. So was I.

"With a bigger model, we can cover more distance and the rock will come down with even more force, but this should show you what it's capable of." Ragnar nodded and watched Floki load in a projectile.

"How is your training coming along?" he asked casually. I blushed a bit, no doubt in my mind he had heard how bad I was failing.

"I might be able to survive for about a few seconds," I answered honestly. "Maybe longer if I manage to distract my opponent. Showing my breasts seemed to work well on Bjorn." Ragnar let out a chuckle.

"I'm glad you're taking this seriously."

"Alright, let's see if Ragnhild was right about her scribbles," Floki interrupted. "Time to see if the aim has improved." Never in all my years had I thought that the high school math and science I was taught would allow me to build such a weapon of destruction. With a flourish of his hands, Floki pulled the lever, sending the rock flying. It went up beautifully, came down, then smashed against a large pine tree. The trunk snapped under the pressure, releasing a terrible roar as a large part of the tree fell to the ground. Floki danced around, giggling. It was a success. Ragnar put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing a bit. I turned around and saw he was convinced.

"Let's hope this thing makes sure you don't have to show your breasts," he said with a grin.

"Let's hope there are enough rocks near Paris to fling," I countered. The longer we were working on the trebuchets, the more I could see going wrong. "How's everyone doing?" I was desperate to change the subject.

"Athelstan was killed." What? "About a week ago. I buried him myself." I had to steady myself, feeling my knees had grown weak. Ragnar looked at me with worried eyes.

"What - no, that can't be. I've seen Bjorn since then, why wouldn't he have told me?" Floki stopped dancing, joining the conversation to hear what we were talking about. "Who would do such a thing? I know he hasn't made himself popular lately, but this..." I couldn't comprehend it. Even though we had been at odds lately and I still held a fear he'd figure out my secret, I'd never wish for something like this to happen. Ragnar pulled me into a hug, sensing I needed some comfort.

"I'll miss him too," he said. "I can take you up to his grave one day if you'd like." One day. Not now. There were more important things to do. I choked back my tears and stepped back.

"I'd like that, thank you. I feel like he deserves a proper farewell." Floki had kept quiet, his feelings about the priest well known.

"He would have been a great asset had he gone with us to Paris." That was the last thing on my mind right now.

"If you see Bjorn, box his ears for me. He should have told me when he saw me."

"I will. Let him know when you feel confident about the project. We'll plan our departure accordingly. Lagertha has already returned." We made our goodbyes and I was left with Floki once more. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. When I turned away instead, wanting to assess any damage to the model, he spoke up.

"Aren't you going to say something about the priest? You're awfully quiet about it."

"Why should I? I'm sure you had a good reason for killing him." Floki's eyes narrowed at my accusation. Despite the sorrow I felt, I couldn't deny the tiny sliver of relief I had felt at the news. With Athelstan, the truth about me had died as well. It would have been only a matter of time before he had put all the pieces together, not to mention he knew of my name.

"Why do you think it was me who killed the priest?" He seemed more curious than confused.

"I saw you walking towards the village a week back, with your axe in hand. Since you came back, you haven't mentioned him once, and you seemed to have found a renewed fervor for the project and the gods. You had the motivation and the means. It all fits together just a little too well to be a coincidence."

"Well aren't you the clever little godsend," he spat, seeing no use in denying it. "Will you tell Bjorn?"

"Do you want me to tell Bjorn? I'm not accustomed to betraying those I call my friends, but I can make an exception if you insist." Despite my bold words, Floki did have a point. Bjorn and I had sworn to always tell each other the truth, even if we didn't know to ask. I could tell myself it was fair game now that he had withheld the death of Athelstan, but that was a slippery slope. If I went there, the mistrust between us would only grow and fester. I would have to think on it for a while. I still had time.

"He wouldn't understand. It needed to be done, Ragnhild.

"For what, Floki? What could possibly justify murdering an innocent man?"

"The gods demanded it. They had no wish to have Athelstan join us to Paris."

"He hadn't even decided on joining!" I exclaimed exasperatedly.

"He would have come, and you know it."

"If your only defense is to say the gods made you do it, you might just force me to tell Bjorn." Floki grunted as he stood up straight, looking down at me with angry eyes.

"And what will you tell him? That I've cracked? Do you think he has as much difficulty understanding the gods as you do? He will not take your side on this as you might think." There was a reason Bjorn hadn't told me, and this might very well be it. I gritted my teeth and went back to check the model. One of the pins had come out a bit, we'd need some plating to keep that from happening in Paris. "Perhaps I could tell Bjorn a tale of my own. Why haven't you shed a tear over the news? You still tear up whenever one of your precious goats is slaughtered."

"Floki, stop it."

"You're not the only smart one, and not the only one with sharp eyes."

"Don't push me like this, or I'll start crying and not stop until we're in Paris."

"Tell me, why have you not broken down yet over the loss of your friend?" I slammed a hand to one of the support beams and got up, furious Floki would go on. His eyes only grew angrier as he saw me looking up at him defiantly.

I pulled a hand through my hair, sighing as I turned to face the lake. I couldn't say this to his face. He was the only one I could tell without having to explain it all and risk whatever consequences that would have. Even now, after killing a close friend of mine, I needed him. And I hated myself for it.

"You may have done me a huge favor, though I will deny that if you ask about it." Floki's hand came up to my shoulder blade. "I'd be careful, though. I think Ragnar suspects it was you." With that, I went off to the lake, wanting to be alone for a moment. I sat down on the beach, pulling my knees up to my chest. The tiny sliver was growing larger now, and as it grew, my tears disappeared even further back. Now, only the wanderer remained. Who knew what the gods had in store for him...


	83. Voyaging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-05-802

Time was not on my side. A few days after Ragnar’s visit the ships were all ready to depart. With little distraction and both of us wanting to keep ourselves busy, Floki and I finished our work quickly. My fights with Bjorn hadn't done anything to improve my mood, either. We had packed in silence and boarded the same ship in silence.

What bothered me most was that I hadn’t cried over losing Athelstan yet. There had been a few tears, but they had come out when I saw Bjorn’s face contort in shame as he saw how hurt I was over his keeping silent.

"I was worried you would fall apart," he had told me. "I meant to tell you, I swear."

"Out at sea, you mean? Or after we take Paris? You should’ve told me when you knew, I thought we wouldn’t keep secrets like this from each other." Half the anger I felt was directed at myself for keeping what I knew hidden from Bjorn, but I couldn’t think clearly on it yet. I needed to deal with the anger I felt towards him, first.

The boys seemed to understand the mood and weren't too rebellious when I told them to listen to their mother. I felt terrible for not making it a better farewell, but I just couldn’t fake a smile for them. Either way they were in good hands, I had to trust that they would be fine. Siggy and Aslaug had plenty of help to take care of them. If there was anything I didn’t have to worry about, it was them.

As the ship left the dock, I couldn't help throwing an insult at Bjorn over his new hairdo. He had taken off the sides, leaving only a strip in the middle. Even though I knew I'd get used to it and it did make him seem more of a man and less like a boy, I really wanted him to know I could be the bitch he had made me out to be me.

Ragnar asked me politely to not bring out our dirty laundry to air in front of others, but he just brought up something else I could throw in Bjorn's face.

"Speaking of dirty laundry, when are you going to learn not to put your dirty training clothes on top of the ones I just washed?" Ragnar wanted to make a comment again, but Floki stopped him.

"This is her way of mourning the priest. She'll be done soon enough. If you interrupt now, she'll keep at it until Paris." I shot Floki a dirty look, but I knew he was right. Ragnar rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"Anything else about me you'd like to insult?" Bjorn asked with a tired look on his face.

"Your ears look even weirder now. And I hate that shirt." I crossed my arms and looked at the trees we passed by. We were going faster than I'd expected, and we were barely out of sight of Kattegat yet. I crawled into the furs around my shoulders, knowing they'd keep me warm. Bjorn had given it to me last winter. It had once kept a couple of white foxes warm, those were fairly unusual. The image of Bjorn trying to catch a fox with his bare hands improved my mood. In my mind he crashed into trees and rocks, the foxes outsmarting him at every turn. Bjorn must have sensed a change in my attitude, as he made to sit beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I acknowledged him by putting my head on his shoulder.

"See? Young love," I heard Floki whisper to Ragnar. I stuck out my tongue, ignoring the smile between Ragnar and Floki. Bjorn knew better than to try and speak to me at this point and remained quiet. Only when night fell and some of the men had gone to sleep I withdrew my silence.

There were barely any clouds, a rare sight. I was gazing at the stars, knowing what science had told me they were. I didn't know what Viking thought of them, though. There were still so many things I didn't know.

"Tell me about the stars," I asked. Bjorn sighed in relief and told me how they were made, who guided them, and how they were known to men and gods alike. Thor had drawn all that information from a troll, to stall him until dawn. Then the troll had turned to stone.

"What are the stars like where you're from?" he asked in return.

"Pretty much the same. Less bright, though. Did you know some people think the stars are souls of those who have died? They believe the sun is a god, and the moon is his wife. There used to be two moons, but one wandered too close to the sun. It cracked from the heat, and a thousand thousand dragons were born that day. That is why they can breathe fire. Their first breath was the flames of the sun itself." I had told Hvitserk the same story once, but back then I had barely been able to speak.

"How do you know these things? I can't possibly understand how you can come up with it all." I really wanted to say 'it is known', but I held back.

"You were taught how to fight and be a Viking. I was taught to write and read, to understand the world, to simply know things." The rocking of the boat made me sleepy, and Bjorn holding me close made me feel warm and safe.

"Well, I'm glad you know so many new stories. At least we won't be bored any time soon." He almost made it sound like he was glad I was here with him.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." I pulled over his arm and started playing with his arm ring, twisting and turning it around.

"I knew it wasn't about me. You're nervous, aren't you?" That was part of it…

"I’m still mad at you for not telling me yourself. You know it’s hard for me to let something like this go… But yes, I am nervous. Just a little." He scoffed, then took my hands in his.

"At least you finally seem to understand what I've been trying to tell you all this time." He was still against me being here. I’d hoped he would be fine with it somehow, but I didn’t want this to turn into a big fight again. He was right when he had told me that he had a right to speak of what bothered him, and me pushing ahead with whatever I felt like wasn’t exactly part of being in a relationship together. I had been rather selfish lately where it came to that, but on the other hand, it had all been decisions about my own life and what I could and couldn’t take. It was confusing, I needed Bjorn to make sense of it.

"I’m not sure if I’ve been selfish or confident lately," I said as I brushed my fingers over his.

"You’ve been going so fast, I had trouble keeping up with you. I wasn’t sure if you were able to keep up yourself, I think that’s why I hid the truth from you. I felt like I had to do something to keep you safe."

"I didn't want to admit it to myself. It's… I don't know." I let out a sigh, then sat down in between his legs so I could lean into him. He put his arms around me, letting his head rest on mine. Whenever we sat like this, I felt safe. It was like he shielded me from the outside world with his body, that I was at the center of his being.

"It's hard being an ignorant savage?" I flushed at his words, my eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard. "Well, you're one of us now. And you might just prove to be most savage of all, if that trebuchet works as well as you promised me it would."

"Don't remind me," I pleaded. "I don't want to think about that now." I felt his chuckle against my back. I didn’t fail to see the irony of it all, but having it rubbed in my face was something else. It was so easy to work on a project in Kattegat, but now…

"You're still a mystery to me, you know that?" Somehow, I just knew he was smiling.

"I don't really understand myself, either. I just hope it works like it’s supposed to." Bjorn pulled me closer, letting one of his hands slide underneath my cloak. His hand rested on my collarbone, and the touch of his skin on mine made me feel calm.

"Try and get some sleep," he whispered. I let sleep take me, happy to have reconciled with my Viking.

The next day, I listened to some classic Viking tales. Some men seemed bored to hear them for the umpteenth time, and Bjorn soon turned to me for some fresh ones. I asked what he wanted to hear, and some men that were rowing nearby gave some suggestions as well.

"Okay, let's go with… Ah, yes. Warriors on a boat. That one should do it. There was a land once, that existed mostly of islands. There lived a seafaring people, with ancient gods that have been dead and forgotten since. There was a war that lasted ten years, and this is the tale of Odysseus, who fought bravely during all of them and won. He was desperate to go home to his loving wife and son, but it would take him ten more years to reach them." I spent hours recounting his adventures, borrowing from others when I needed to, embellishing some things, and leaving out others.

Bjorn ate it all up, eager to hear of distant places. I only paused to eat something, but my mind was already planning what I would tell next. The sun was already setting by the time I finished. My throat was a bit sore, but I was glad to add something to the boat. I'd be stuck on it for a while, and I wouldn’t be asked to take turns rowing. Some part of me objected to the inequality of it, but I just had to look at them to realize I was quite content not to bring it up.

Others tried to fill the gap I left after my story ended, but the audience was not as attentive as they had been during mine. I took pride in that, even though I knew it was largely because the stories were new and told of strange places and people. As Bjorn was switched out, he sat back next to me. We kissed for a bit, but he was so tired he fell asleep shortly after.

After a week of fairly calm waters, a storm came. Some food was passed around beforehand, but I declined. It would come up in no time. The waves were already getting unruly, and I felt my stomach churning. Bjorn didn't know whether to laugh at me or feel sorry.

As the waves grew, so did my queasiness. There wasn't much to do but sit it out. I braced myself, and it didn't take long before the vomiting started. Bjorn supportively rubbed my back, for all the good it did.

"I hate boats. Why did you even let me come?" I moaned.

"You really want to get into that right now?"

"Shut up and keep rubbing."

After a few hours, the storm died down. I desperately wanted to brush my teeth, but I had to settle for a few swallows of water to rinse out my mouth. I just wanted to curl up and sleep, but Bjorn forced some food into me first. Floki was cursing at me for throwing up on his boat, but I ignored him. He had little credit with me, after killing Athelstan.


	84. Troubles Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10-06-802

After three weeks on the boat it had lost all its charm. When the call came that we were approaching the mouth of the Seine, it felt like redemption. Two days later we caught our first sight of Paris. It was nothing like I remembered. It was tiny, but having been in Kattegat for so long, I was still impressed at the sight of the walls and the height of the cathedral.  
  
Ragnar picked a spot to land, and within fifteen minutes I felt solid ground beneath my feet again. I could have dropped to my knees and kissed it, but there was work to be done. I helped set up the first tents, then started a cooking fire. The camp functioned like a well-oiled machine. Wood was cut to feed the fires, hunters were sent out to gather fresh food, while others tended to a defensive line. It was well past dinnertime before Bjorn and I could have some privacy. The sex was short but sweet as we both felt exhausted, but after three weeks of barely more than a subtle grope we were both starved for some intimacy.  
  
It took about two days for some semblance of a routine to govern the camp and we had enough food to focus on other things. I welcomed the help Floki and I now had, but Floki turned into a dictator. He was meticulously checking every detail, wanting to do everything himself. I let him, as I thought he felt like he had something to prove. Ragnar came to check regularly, dying to get it all started. I was fairly sure of our success, but Floki insisted on testing every single trebuchet multiple times.  
  
At night I spent most of my time drinking a well-deserved horn of ale with Bjorn, or Helga if Bjorn was at some meeting to come up with a plan. As Sinric was there I'd been asked to stay away, which apparently could have been seen as a huge offense. I didn't really get it, as I figured I wouldn't have a lot to contribute, anyway. Helga didn’t feel the need to be there either and chose to stay out of it as well, leaving us to talk about our day.  
  
"These Franks are supposedly well armed," she told me as we sat on a bench near a fire. "Rollo was out scouting and found a weird kind of bow today. You don't even have to pull on the string yourself, can you imagine?" I sat up straight.  
  
"A crossbow?" I had no idea those were around already. This could be bad; the Franks were better protected than I thought. They were no match for the trebuchets, but to have crossbowmen fire down as they tried to scale the remains of the walls…  
  
"You saw it?"  
  
"I know of them," I admitted. "They use a lever to pull back the string. Any arrow you shoot off hits with an incredible force. Leather will barely stop one coming at you full force, but they take a while to reload because of the lever. They're useless for hunting but great for defending a wall."  
  
"How do you know so much about weapons? I thought you said there were barely any around where you grew up." I sucked my teeth for a bit, wondering how to get out of this one.  
  
"I learned about a lot of different things. There was a lot about history that we thought important to remember, and there have always been a lot of weapons in our past." I was spared from having to explain it further as Bjorn came up towards us. "Were you waiting up for me?" I kissed him as he leaned down.  
  
"Yes, I was wondering what you decided on." Bjorn put his hand on my arm, making me stand up. This wasn't something to be told out in the open. We walked back to our tent, lying down on the furs that formed a crude bed.  
  
"We didn't get much further," Bjorn whispered as I nestled in his arms. "Horik's being a dick. He wants to be in charge, but father won't have it." It made sense. After his loss in Kattegat, Horik needed to show the world he was still the alpha male, while Ragnar didn’t want to let go of his position as Horik’s better.  
  
"What does that mean for the raid?" I asked just as softly.  
  
"It means something drastic needed to happen, and it did. Ragnar put Floki in charge of the attack." My eyes widened.  
  
"No way," I breathed. Floki was no leadership material, he would be the first to admit that.  
  
"I don't understand it either. He’s the one person not related to either Ragnar or Horik, but this… Most of the meeting was about getting everyone on board." I had a feeling what this was about, but I couldn't explain it. I still hadn't told Bjorn, and it was starting to eat at me. And after waiting for this long, I was sure Bjorn would be more upset with me for keeping it from him for all this time than with Floki for what he had done.  
  
"I'm sure your father has a good reason, maybe he's worked out a plan with Floki."  
  
"He's just been busy with the trebuchet, he barely even sleeps. Does he really seem able to come up with a great plan right now?" I had to admit that wasn't the case. Floki was possessed with his fervor to appease the gods.  
  
"He might just be a little obsessed," I admitted. "I wished I could help out, but I'm not sure what I could do."  
  
"You're doing plenty, already. Just looking at you makes me feel tired, do you want to try and get some sleep?"  
  
"I'm fine, Bjorn."  
  
"If you say so…" He pressed his lips against my hair. "I'm not complaining. If you still have some energy left…" His hands started to glide over my body, making me bite my lip.  
  
"There is something that’s bothering me," I confessed. Bjorn sat up a bit as I turned around, facing him. I barely dared look him in the eye, feeling very unsure on how to broach the subject.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Are you planning on copying that crossbow?" If he was surprised I even knew about it, he didn't let it show.  
  
"Of course, we will. Once we return home, we'll take it apart to find out how it's made. It's far better than any bow of ours. But you knew that already, didn’t you?" The look in his eyes told me I had some explaining to do, but this wasn’t the time for that. The things I could tell him about weapons…  
  
"Then I think we need to add something to the plan. If we leave the trebuchets standing, Paris will be able to make them, too. Even seeing them might give Paris an advantage." Bjorn thought about it for a moment, as did I. If Francia was given such an advantage over their neighbors, the course of history could change.  
  
France would eventually come to war with the Netherlands, and in war, people died. My ancestors could die. I didn't want to think about that. If this would happen, I'd be fucked. Would I just fall to the floor without any warning? Or fade from existence?  
  
"Are you really that worried about it?" Bjorn sensed this was important to me, even though he didn't understand why. "I'll talk to Ragnar." I hoped Ragnar would listen. He had to. The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. If I would never be born, I wasn't able to travel back in time to change it, so I would be born again?  
  
I just wanted to curl up and fall asleep, but that would only delay the inevitable. Even using the trebuchets could alter time. I could never convince Ragnar to break them down and not use them, not now we'd come this far.  
  
My only hope was that my birth was a fixed event in time, destined to happen. Could I be that arrogant? Or would it be selfless to carry on like nothing would go wrong? That wanderer had been more right than wrong about me being able to destroy the world without me knowing it.  
  
"What is going on? This can't just be about the trebuchets. Please, tell me." He was worried about me wringing my fingers and my silence. I didn’t know how to calm him down. I didn’t even know what the problem was, exactly. My logic failed me, and it was terrifying.  
  
"I… I don't even know how to explain. I barely understand it myself. It's just…" I groaned and leaned against Bjorn. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the head.  
  
"You're starting to scare me. I want to help, but I need you to tell me what's wrong." The trebuchets were going to be used, one way or the other. Even if I burned them or something, Floki would know how to rebuild them. Everything I could hope to do wouldn't stop the changes to time as I knew it. I had already put it in motion. I had passed the point of no return, and I hadn't even noticed it.  
  
Logic dictated that I could only wait to see the results. It was done. My… My life was fated. I had no control. It was already too late. If these were to be the last days of my life, I just wanted to spend them in Bjorn's arms.  
  
"I'm sorry. Forget what I said, I - I'm just terrified of what will happen. I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone for that matter. And now I'm working on those - those things and it'll be even worse, and I - I'm just so confused. You were right. I shouldn't have come. I thought it'd be easier knowing what was going on, but… It's too much for me. I just want it to be over." Bjorn pulled me close.  
  
"For someone so smart, you can be really dumb."  
  
"I know." I allowed myself to feel everything. I started crying softly, wanting nothing more than to be there, in his arms. 


	85. Time Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-07-802

I started noticing the toll on my body the stress was causing. My appetite had decreased due to constant nausea, the loss of sleep was catching up with me, and I was a week late bleeding. Bjorn took one look at me and said he wanted me to take it easy today. I knew he was right, but I still felt obligated to check up on the progress of the trebuchets. He insisted on coming with me at least, and I didn't refuse him.   
  
When we got to the forest, Floki was already shouting orders to the men and women that were helping us. The sound of trees being chopped down and falling over surrounded us. Was Floki planning on building even more? Only yesterday we had decided one would be enough, but now it seemed like Floki wanted to build three. Fucking religious freaks. Judging by the smudged kohl on his face, he had been working ever since he got put in charge last night.   
  
I knew arguing about it wouldn't change anything, so I just accepted it as fact. I was too tired to try and convince him otherwise, though I also knew this was going to take longer, adding to the stress. Just the thought of trying to fit camp-grade iron plating to the joints… I let out a tired sigh. I could only wait and see, and love Bjorn for all the time that remained.   
  
"Come on, let's get out of here. Take a day off, you deserve it." Bjorn nudged my shoulder. He sounded worried.   
  
"You're right. If I spend another minute here I’ll lose my mind." Bjorn led me away, and soon the sounds were off in the distance. We halted at a clearing and lay down on the grass. Only now I noticed the forest was rich in colors, showing off its best leaves. Being away from the trebuchets made it easier to breathe. Having to work on the things that might mean my own death was unbearable. But if it all turned out to be a false alarm, I’d have to explain things that I didn’t want to touch upon. If anyone suspected, I would be dead either way.  
  
"I just can't believe Floki wants to make more of them. It'll take even longer until we can attack. There are barely enough rocks around to fling as it is," I muttered. It was easy to complain of Floki to hide my other troubles.  
  
"Please, stop talking about work. Let's just pretend we are back home, just for a little while." I took a deep breath and sighed out the tension in my body.  
  
"You're right, that would be nice. You could tell me about the raiding you still plan on doing, and I'll wonder how many lives you'd have to take." Bjorn sighed as he saw my cheeky smile. To him it was a serious subject, but to me it was a joke compared to what loomed overhead.  
  
"You make me sound like a mass murderer. You know it's just a part of it. There's so much more to raiding."  
  
"I know, I'm just teasing." I kissed him. "Coming here was at least good for me in that effect. I think I understand it a lot better now." I’d heard many stories from the ordinary men that had come with. A successful raid meant they could buy more grain, get a new horse, find better swords… It was about survival. Some came along to live a bit more luxurious, but for most of them it was about being able to live, and not just survive. That was a sentiment I could very well understand.   
  
"Enough to accept it as part of who I am?" Bjorn's lips formed in a careful smile.   
  
"I don't think I'll ever want to see the fighting for myself, but… Yeah, I think I'm starting to get to terms with it." He kissed me, soft at first, then deepening as I responded in kind. He moved on top of me.   
  
His hands knew just where to touch me to elicit a response. My hands moved across his chest, his back, his head, eager to feel his hands on my naked skin. He undid the lacing on his pants as I moved up my skirts, wanting to be with him even more.  
  
A soft moan escaped my lips as his fingers entered me. My nails dug into his shirt, no doubt drawing blood if they had touched bare skin. Bjorn laid a hand on my neck, his thumb caressing my skin.   
  
"Don't tear me to shreds just yet," he whispered. His lips left a trail of kisses down my collarbone, then went in search of other places to kiss. As his lips descended below my nipples, I knew where they would go.   
  
Bjorn halted at the tattoo on my hip, giving me a mischievous smile. I was already writhing in anticipation, licking my lips as my arms brushed over the grass underneath me. I clutched it tight as he kissed the heart. As his fingers slid down my thigh, I tore the grass from the ground.   
  
"I haven't even started," he muttered. "You never let me have any fun." I slowly opened my eyes and looked at him. He was smiling his ass off.   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to lay here stiff as a spear?" Bjorn got up to his knees and pulled me upright.   
  
"I want to see just how much you can move." He sat back a bit, daring me to go with it. After getting me riled up like that, he knew I would do it, if only to get off.   
  
"Then lie the fuck down, you lazy bum." I shoved at his chest before he could do anything himself. Pulling up my skirts I moved on top of him. I sat down but didn't guide him into me just yet. He would suffer, first. My nails scraped his chest as I started to move over his dick.   
  
"It's not in yet," he sighed. He tried to get up, but I pushed him down again.   
  
"Do you think I don't know that? You said you wanted to see me move. You never said anything about fucking you." I kept him down with one finger and pulled up the skirts up to my hips. His eyes caught sight of my hand disappearing from sight. He felt my fingers moving over his skin, but I wasn't pleasuring him.   
  
His cock twitched every few seconds, but otherwise, he didn't move. Bjorn watched me masturbate while I sat on top of his dick without complaint, knowing full well why I did it. I knew he loved to see me like this, and that he loved how much harder he could make me come when he did it, even more.   
  
But now, it was about revenge. For making me think he would go down on me, only to stop before he even started. For using my own arousal against me, and just for the hell of it.   
  
"Fuck me," he said as I almost came. His hands grasped at my legs, eager to finally join in himself.   
  
"Beg for it," I breathed between moans. He sat up and grabbed my offending hand.   
  
"Some would say you're disrespecting me…" The sight of him licking off my fingers made me push out my chest towards him.   
  
"Most of them would be right." Bjorn raised an eyebrow as he licked my last wet finger, then he turned me on my back in a flash.   
  
"The shit I let you get away with…" He dragged his cock past my slit. He was waiting for something.   
  
"It's nothing compared to what I give you in return." I felt his hand near my entrance, then the tip of his cock. "I love you." Bjorn exhaled in delight as he entered. He dragged his hips up and down, more concerned about the connection than an orgasm.   
  
"I love you more," he whispered. His voice was the most gentle touch of all.   
  
"Impossible," I sighed. He thrust hard, only once, then returned to the slow pace. "I love you most."   
  
"I defied a king for you." He kissed my collarbone, then dragged his tongue over the skin in my neck, all the way up to my ear. There he flicked my earlobe with his nose.   
  
"I defied Horik for less. I'm willing to raze a city to keep you safe."   
  
"I would defy the gods for you." I had to blink, but his eyes were still adamant. He thought I was more important than his faith, than his family, than his way of life. To him, I was the center of his world.   
  
"Bjorn…" I blinked a few times again, this time to keep my tears at bay. We kissed again. He held my body in a clumsy half-embrace as he continued to make love to me.   
  
I moaned louder as he sped up, our climax fast approaching. I held him tight as I came, feeling the tension release from him as he too climaxed. We lay there for a bit, just looking at each other. It was such a pure moment, I forgot all about the fact we were both half-naked in the middle of a forest.   
  
After a last intense kiss, he rolled off and pulled me up against his chest.   
  
"I hope we'll have a baby soon," he told my shoulder before he kissed it.   
  
"We've been trying hard enough, I'm sure it'll happen soon. Would you prefer a girl or a boy?"   
  
"A boy would be wonderful. I can already imagine teaching him how to fight. But a girl would be nice as well." Any offspring of ours would no doubt turn into warriors. It was part of life as a Viking. I just hoped I would be here to give him what we wanted.  
  
"Maybe we'll get one of each. My brother’s my twin, and it tends to run in the family." I could feel his silent laughter.  
  
"For all your talk of how you're not chosen by Freyja, you have more in common with her than you know. She has a twin brother as well." I rolled my eyes. I had mentioned my brother before, but I never told anyone he was my twin for exactly this reason. Just another fart.  
  
"And there are plenty of differences as well. No one ever seems to notice those."  
  
"Aren't you your own person? It's only natural that some things are different." An explanation for everything. Wasn't that convenient?   
  
"I don't know if I'll ever believe in them like you. When I decided on those markings, I had no idea they could be interpreted in such a way. They mean something different to me, you know that."  
  
"I do. But didn't you also say that too many coincidences together make a pattern?"  
  
"I hate it when you use my words against me." He was right in his thinking. If it was anyone else, I'd be hard-pressed not to believe it myself. I just couldn't fathom why or how the gods had chosen me. But still… It would explain how I had traveled through time. There was no denying that had to have happened by forces greater than me, something I couldn't understand or explain. I needed to cling to the gods and their plans for my future to keep my sanity. Without their desire to have me fulfil some kind of destiny, there would be no reason for me to survive when the Franks used the trebuchets. Embracing the gods meant I wouldn't have to fear suddenly leaving, dropping dead to the floor before his eyes.  
  
But when I was confronted with them like this, it triggered my dislike for religion. I’d have to see one of the gods for myself before I would believe they existed, much to Bjorn’s annoyance. He loved telling me that knowing and believing didn’t go hand in hand. Not wanting to think on it further, I snuggled up to Bjorn and closed my eyes. He played with my hair as I yawned.   
  
"Try and get some sleep. I'll watch over you." He didn't have to convince me. His steady heartbeat served as a lullaby, and soon I drifted off.   
  
The day the trebuchets were done, Floki seemed like he had aged ten years since we left Kattegat. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and he was moving sluggish and beat. Still, he insisted on staying for the sacrifice that was to take place. Helga seemed to share my worries but knew better than to try and fight him.   
  
This time a horse was sacrificed, and I allowed Ragnar to spatter some of its blood on my face, as much to my own amazement as his. It felt a bit weird, but it was what was expected of me. Bjorn stood behind me, and his grip tightened into a hug as he felt a surge of pride, no doubt.   
  
I hadn't participated like this before. To me, it was just another step in accepting the Viking culture, but to Bjorn, it meant so much more. I wanted to wipe my face off, but I expected that would be frowned upon.   
  
"How long do I have to walk around like this?" I whispered. I felt Bjorn chuckle.   
  
"You can wash it off when we get back to the tent. Though I kind of like this new look."  
  
"Oh, shut up. You're going to storm the gates of Paris the day after next. I'm sure right now you like me in any look, as long as I'm naked."   
  
"You know me so well," he said as he rubbed his crotch against my back.   
  
"Let's see if we can wash off that blood. Among other things." I took his hand and started moving towards the tent. If this was to be one of my last days, I wanted to make the most of it.


	86. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-07-802

The day before the attack was spent moving the trebuchets into position. I felt a bit worried. What would happen if it wouldn't work? What if a stone missed the wall and instead smashed the wooden bridge? It was too late to be overly worried about it now, and with everyone this enthusiastic I just wanted to pretend to be happy about everything, as well.  
  
I had decided not to be there during the attack, and Bjorn had instantly supported that decision. The further I was away from the battlefield, the better. I would stay in the camp, preparing for the wounded that were no doubt to come, and have food and drink ready for when the army would return.   
  
Seeing the city from a distance, bells ringing at the sight of movement from their enemy, I didn't want to think about the lives that would be lost. Paris was right to be so afraid. Memories of Borg coming in to take over Kattegat came back to mind. We’d lost all we had then, too. But I also had to admit, it had given me Bjorn. I tried to find some solace in that, from every tragedy, something good could grow.   
  
Where I mostly felt fear and anxiety, Floki couldn't be more excited. He was dying to see his babies in action. He even felt the need to give them pet names, which meant he wanted me to pick them. They were born from my mind, so it was only fitting, he told me. I caught him caressing one when he thought no one was looking. He tried to convince Ragnar to let one of them fire, but his request was denied. Floki might have the command for all to see, but Ragnar was still pulling the strings.  
  
I made my own round past the triplets, seeing more than a few men look up at them with a wicked grin. They knew what to expect after Floki’s little demonstration that had felled a large elm tree. Luke and Solo were doing fine, but someone was lurking around Leia.  
  
"And just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" The soldier that was touching Leia rose to his feet, trying to stare me down as I came marching towards him.  
  
"I figured out how they work. If we add an extra notch the walls will crumble even faster." What a complete idiot.  
  
"The fuck you do. This one's meant to hit the farthest part of the wall, you add a notch it'll fly over. Get the fuck away from her. Now." He leaned back at my tone, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
  
"And just who do you think you are?" Everyone who had helped make them knew who Floki and I were. Even as I took a closer look at his face, I didn’t recognize him. It only gave me more reason not to trust him.  
  
"I'm the one who made them," I hissed. "Back off before I'll have you flung over the walls, see how you like that extra notch then." Floki came near, looking all kinds of worried.   
  
"Ragnhild?" The soldier stiffened a little as he heard my name.  
  
"He wanted to add a fucking notch. I don't know what he's thinking. I don't want him anywhere near her ever again."  
  
"Motherfucker," Floki agreed. "Get out, right now. You're off the team, Ingwar." The man stalked off, looking royally pissed. It was a place of honor, to be asked to help with the girls. Floki would have no trouble finding a better replacement. "Good thing you caught it. Leia does not need any tinkering, she's fragile enough as it is." He tested the tension on the ropes, just to be safe.   
  
"I’m more worried about that Ingwar. I don’t recognize him, and he didn’t know who I was. Is he one of Horik’s?" Floki cocked his head.   
  
"You know we have moved past our squabble back home. He has no reason to sabotage me, or this raid. I needed more men, and King Horik was kind enough to supply them." If only Floki could see beyond their bond over the gods and think about it logically. This could very well have been an attempt to thwart the plan.  
  
I decided to drop it. It was too late to change anything now, Floki would keep a close eye on our babies during all of it, especially after this incident.   
  
"I worry about her, though…" Floki sounded like a mother fretting over her son starting training.   
  
"She'll be fine," I assured him. "Her counterweight balanced out her handicap." Floki let out a worried hum.   
  
"You know I'm not worried about her aim. With these crappy iron bands, she'll fall apart before long."  
  
"Which is why we put her on the long end. If she falls apart, we'll have more rocks for the other two. You worry too much, Floki."  
  
"What if something goes wrong with all of them?" The way he was worried, I was surprised he was against having children. If he showed only half as much concern over a child, he would be a great father. He just needed to trust the design and keep Horik’s men at bay.   
  
"We've been over this, three times. You know how to correct for any mistakes, and you know how to do small repairs better than me. You have plenty of spare equipment here, and if it truly all falls to shit-"  
  
"I'd rather have you here." I raised a hand to cup his face. He was scared, though he would never admit that, not even to the gods.  
  
"I'd rather not sleep with the death cries of innocent people ringing in my ears for the rest of my life. We've been over this. Floki, look at me. You will do fine. You can do this. I have faith in you." He just let out a nervous giggle. "You were nervous when you first took that boat to water as well, the one that brought you to England despite a huge storm on the way. Now stop being a fucking pussy, and lead the fucking army."  
  
"I'm not a fucking pussy," he spat.   
  
"Then don't act like one. Prove me wrong, I know you love doing that." He took a deep breath, taking in his surroundings.   
  
"You! With the blunt axe, get your team ready to load up the first rocks!" With Floki no longer looking at me, off to make sure the last details were put into place, I let out a tired sigh. This was going to be a long day and an even longer night.  
  
"It looks like Floki's all fired up again," Ragnar said as he came to stand beside me. He let a hand rest on Leia, taking her in in all her splendor. "All this from peas and a spoon."  
  
"It's more than that, but… Yeah, that's how it started. Just wait until you see them in action."  
  
"I'm still a little surprised you don't want to see it for yourself," he said with an attitude that told me he thought I would have changed my mind.  
  
"I just keep amazing you, don't I? Have you seen Bjorn?"  
  
"With Lagertha, over at the bank. Are you sure you want to miss this?"  
  
"Definitely. I'll hear all about it later. You still have the map?" He patted his belt, where a piece of skin hung. He'd know where to aim the trebuchets when the wall was down and we still had rocks left. We'd singled out the granary and the armory as targets as well.   
  
"Don't I get a few words of encouragement from you, like Floki?" I turned back around, giving Ragnar a curious look.   
  
"The blind man hasn't seen you yet. You won't die tonight, or tomorrow. But that doesn't mean you get to act like a reckless dick." He took me in a fatherly embrace, pulling me close.   
  
"I owe you, for all of this. Thank you."  
  
Ragnar hardly gave anyone recognition with words. Oftentimes, you had to suffice with a nod, or a smile, or a pat on the back, but this… Just maybe I was rubbing off on him a little.   
  
"We still need you, Ragnar. Don't leave us in the hands of Horik. He'll doom us all to Helheim." After a last tight squeeze he let go of me, taking in a deep breath as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. He wore a pleasant look, but I could see he was worried over the coming battle. None of the men here had ever had attempted an attack of this size, least of all on a city the size of Paris.   
  
"Get going," he said with a gesture of his head. "Have some ale ready come morning. We’ll need to celebrate."  
  
"I'll try not to drink it all by myself." I left him with a smile on his face as I went off to look for Bjorn. He had promised to walk me back to camp right before it was time. Since the first rocks were loaded, that time was now upon us. The trebuchets were to fire in the last hours before sunset, then at dawn, the attack would start. There was no use trying to fire the trebuchets when they could sink ships or kill our own. I had told Bjorn that a lot of rubble would fall down during the night, and it made little sense to have our own men try and stumble around any remains of the walls. It was best to leave that to the Franks. Undoubtedly, they would try and salvage what they could.  
  
Bjorn saw me walk towards him. Lagertha gave him a last reassuring pat on the back, then nodded in my direction before she walked off.   
  
"It's time," Bjorn said as I caught up. "Are you nervous?"  
  
"That's an understatement." He threw an arm around my shoulder as we started walking. We kept silent for a while. The sounds of the warriors slowly got drowned out by the forest.   
  
"We'll beat them, you'll see," he said in a confident voice.   
  
"I don't want you to die." I turned to face him, standing still on the trampled path.   
  
"I won't." He didn't understand. If he died, I…   
  
"You can't promise that. What will I do without you? Bjorn, stop smiling. I need you." I didn't want him to see I was close to crying. I needed to be supportive, not fall apart. It was easier said than done. And as always, he knew. His chest was a reminder that he was alive. His heartbeat felt so steady and sure. As he pulled me close I felt myself calm down, but only a little. This could be the last time I saw him, I had to make sure he would survive.   
  
"Ragnhild, I'll be fine. Don't worry so much."  
  
"If you die, what will I do? How will I live on?"  
  
"It's back luck to speak of it. Things will happen just as the gods have decided it will happen. Even if I wanted to, there's no changing our fate." I shook my head, disagreeing with every word that had come out of his mouth. For too long I had tried to convince myself of that, but my fate was in my own hands.   
  
"I'm serious, Bjorn. What if you get killed? I won't survive, I love you too much." I needed to hear him say the same. I needed to hear how much he loved me, just one more time.   
  
"There's no reason to be worried. Ragnhild…" I buried my face in his woolen shirt. It scratched my face a little, but I didn't mind. I just needed to feel him close to me, preferably forever.  
  
"I can't lose you. Ever. I will fall apart again. A part of me will die with you." His breath moved through my hair. As he grew desperate, so did I.   
  
"The gods will watch over me," he whispered.  
  
"That's not enough. Not for me, I need more. I need to know you'll do whatever you can to get back to me." As I looked up at him, I realized words wouldn’t make him understand. I needed to make it abundantly clear what I meant. "I won't stop you, but I will do what I can, you hear me?" My hands found the lacing of his pants, pulling it loose.   
  
"Honey?" Bjorn tried to take a step back, but I wouldn't let him.  
  
"After all the fucking shit we've been through, is it really a surprise to you that I want to fuck you one last time? No one will see us. I need you, Bjorn. All of you."  
  
"I have to get back. Please, Ragnhild." He took hold of my wrists, forcing me to stop. "You're terrified, I get that, but you're making it hard for me to focus on the battle. I need to prepare, and having you throw yourself at me like this isn't making it any easier." I couldn't handle this. I wanted to tie him up to a tree and keep him there until all of this was over.   
  
I swallowed my tears down and looked away. If these were to be our final moments, I wanted them to be a happy memory, whoever would survive.   
  
"I’m sorry," Bjorn said as he took hold of my hand. "I didn’t mean it like that, nothing will happen to me just because you distracted me for a bit. I’ll be fine, we’ll both be." It wasn’t like that, but I couldn’t tell him. Not now, not with the battle upon us.   
  
"No, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m not as strong as I thought I was."   
  
"I’m actually glad to hear you say that. You’ve been moving so fast lately, this was bound to happen. What’s that thing you always say? Two steps forward, one step back? You’re still ahead of where you were, and I’m here for you. I love you."   
  
"How could I ever love you like you deserve? You’re… You’re everything to me."   
  
"It’s okay if you don’t feel strong enough right now. I’m here for you, and that’s all that matters. You’re not alone, nor will you ever be. I may love you the most, but that doesn’t mean I’m the only one to love you." I took in a sharp breath, needing a moment to collect myself.   
  
"Okay, you really have to stop right now, or you’ll make me cry."   
  
"I wouldn’t care if you did." I pressed my eyes shut to keep in the tears, feeling my lip starting to shake. I had to take in a few deep breaths to keep from crying, despite his words. I wanted to be strong for him. I wanted him to be proud of me. There was no need, or cause, just a willingness.   
  
"I mean it, you have to stop saying those things," I said as I calmed down enough to keep on walking. "You almost make me feel bad for not being able to say such things back to you. When did you get your hands on the Mead of Poetry?"  
  
"You taught me how to express myself. If anything, you’re to blame for my silver tongue." He was being so incredibly cheesy, but I couldn’t deny it was just what I needed. These were the kind of happy memories I’d wanted to end with.   
  
"If you die, I'll kill you," I whispered as we reached the camp.   
  
"If I die, I'll wait for you in Valhalla." If that even existed. I closed my eyes in an attempt to hold back the frustration I felt. "Let me look at you one last time before I go," he whispered. "Let me remember how beautiful you are, and how strong." I gazed up at him, aching to keep him with me.   
  
"Don't try and be a hero. I love you too much to let you do something reckless," I said as I pulled him close again.  
  
"I'll bring you something nice." One last kiss, then he let go of me. I had to let him. I watched him go, and I caught myself praying to the gods that they would give him back to me. That they wouldn’t take me away from him.  
  
The thundering crashes of rock hitting rock were soon ringing through the camp. I hoped everything was going according to plan. Every crash was counted as a hit by the few people who were left in the camp, met with a but I just felt it chipping away at my confidence. As the sun set, the crashes died down again. I could only pray they had done enough damage to the wall to help us to victory. As long as Bjorn survived, I was fine with dying. I tried to sleep for a while, but I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen at dawn. My heart ached.   
  
When I got up, fed up with tossing and turning, I saw Helga sitting by a fire. She seemed more at ease, but I could tell she was having trouble sleeping as well. We didn't need to say a word to understand each other.   
  
The fire provided some warmth, but mostly it brought me to the darkest corners of my mind. If I were to drop dead, would they burn my body? It could happen any minute now. No one would know exactly how or why. I imagined my heart would simply stop beating. It would be painless, fast. Chances were I wouldn’t even notice it. I would just fade away, maybe Bjorn wouldn’t even remember me as I wouldn’t even be born. That would probably be best, he wouldn’t suffer that way. None of them would.   
  
"Ragnhild? Why are you crying?" I wiped off my cheeks as I looked up at Helga. I hadn’t even noticed.   
  
"I just miss the boys," I sighed. "I’ve never had to miss them for this long." Helga showed me a broad smile.   
  
"You’ve never been away from home this long, have you?" I wanted to protest, but then I realized I’d never really had a home before Kattegat.   
  
"How do you manage?" I asked.  
  
"I know that my one true love will always return to me. The Seer once told me I would never have to miss Floki for long, no matter how great the distance between us will be. And I know how much joy there is in returning home and seeing their faces again. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be headed home within a few days." That sounded nice. A successful raid, and just a vast ocean between us and home.   
  
I imagined how much stories the boys would have to share. I couldn’t wait to see how well they swam by now, I’d told them they could practice in the shallow end of the lake. They had been so sad over me leaving, it must be hard on them, as well. I’d make it up to them with plenty of stories of my own.   
  
"I wish I could have your confidence," I admitted. "You’re always so sure that everything will turn out alright, and from what I’ve seen you’re hardly ever wrong."  
  
"Do we not have the Vessel of Freyja with us? You’re the one that puts me at ease. You should’ve heard Floki about your babies."  
  
"My babies? He was the one that insisted on naming them."  
  
"But they’re named after one of your stories, and it was your idea. And I’ve seen how you care about them, and the worried look you carry when you look at them. It’s the same one you carry for the boys." Despite my worries I had to smile. Helga knew me better than I thought.   
  
"You’re right." She bumped her shoulder into mine, then got up to get us fresh drinks. Even now she was perfectly at ease, just waiting for her lover to come back to her. The only thing that made me sure she was at least somewhat nervous was the fact she sat here out by the fire, but as I thought about it, Bjorn might just have asked her to look after me. It’s the kind of thing he would do for me.   
  
I looked up from the fire as I noticed the sky was no longer black. Then, a chant rose up from behind the woods. It was time. Something inside of me stirred, and it made me prepare for the worst.   
  
"Freyja, if you can hear me… Keep him safe. Keep them all safe. I have grown to love them all. I have never known a home like the one I have now. Please don't take that away from me. Let me be happy for just a while longer. Have mercy on us all." Helga took my hand in hers. As I looked up I saw she had a confident look in her eyes.   
  
"May the gods keep us all," she said. She got up, pulling me with her. "Come. We have work to do."   
  
We started preparing food. I lost all feeling of time. I just knew I had to cut things. Carrots, mushrooms, pieces of meat, bread. I realized I had no idea how many people would eat from this abundance. My hands started shaking and I had to put down the knife I was using. I excused myself and went for a walk through the camp, but it was eerily deserted. Some men had stayed back to guard us, and they were as restless as I felt inside.   
  
The men were probably hoping to fight in the battle, but I was glad these men and women would eat with us after the battle. I wanted to drink a horn of ale, but I knew I wouldn't be able to stop once I started. Just as I felt calm enough to return to the cooking, I heard a group of men return from the battle. I wanted to run at them and ask if Bjorn was okay, but I held back. The food was to be served soon for anyone not having a woman with them to take care of them, that was the most helpful thing for me to do.   
  
Bjorn would find me as soon as he got back. He knew where to find me, and how anxious I was. I had to hold on to that. I just had to believe it was true. I would see him again, alive and well. If this battle was the point where I disappeared from time, it would have happened by now. My lucky streak would continue, I had to believe that. Bjorn was safe. He was alive. It was just a matter of time until he returned to me.   
  
I kept forcing myself to relax. I wouldn’t disappear. I shredded a carrot. Bjorn would be back in a bit. Another carrot. We’d get to live long, fulfilling lives together. A cabbage next, just to shake things up. He would come back to me, or I would curse the gods all the way to Nilfheim and back. They were cruel, and vicious, but not complete assholes.   
  
The cries of the wounded grew louder as more men came back. A good number of them came to check on the food, but most stayed out in the sun and preferred to drink. I didn't like the atmosphere that drifted in with them. It made me think of defeat, and death. Those weren’t things I wanted to think about.   
  
"Ragnhild?" I looked up and saw Lagertha standing at the edge of the tent. She looked hurt, but not from a wound. "There’s something you should know. It's Bjorn." 


	87. Shot In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-07-802

I kneeled beside Bjorn, unable to say a word. I didn't dare to cry, or touch him, too afraid it might all become real. He lay on a cot, stripped of his shirt. It was replaced with bandages covering most of his chest. His face was dirty, as if he’d gone running through the woods right after heavy rain. Bjorn had his eyes closed, and didn’t move. But he was still warm.  
  
"He's alive," Lagertha said. As my eyes flashed up to hers, I saw she didn't know what else to say. She had kept it from me as the healers did their best, but it looked like a piss-poor job to me. The crossbow bolts had been pulled out, and the wounds had been dressed, but that was it. That alone was reason enough for me to be furious at her, but sadness over Bjorn clouded any and all other feelings.  
  
"Just because he breathes doesn't mean he's alive," I said sullenly. All kinds of horrible scenarios went through my mind. He could still die, or never wake up, be paralyzed… I had no idea what was to come. "I have to…" I had to do something, be strong again. I didn’t know how he was doing, but I could find out just a bit. I picked up the knife that lay on the table and wiped it off on my skirt. I only needed it to be shiny, not cleaned.  
  
"What are you doing?" Lagertha’s voice held a hint of wariness.  
  
"I want to see if he can still wake up. Can you move a bit? I need to catch some light." Lagertha raised an eyebrow but did as I asked. I deliberately opened one of his eyes and used the knife to reflect some light from outside into his face. I let out a relieved sigh as his pupil reacted to the change in light. "He couldn’t been off worse," I sighed. Just to be sure, I did the same to his other eye.  
  
"How can you tell?"  
  
"If he would have severe brain damage, his eyes wouldn't react. See how his pupil responds to the light? That's a good sign. It means he can wake up. If he hadn't responded he could be brain dead or completely paralyzed."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I just do." I felt Lagertha's eyes bore into my skull, but I kept my eyes on Bjorn. I tried to brush away a speck of mud from his face, but it stuck to his skin. "Most people fear the wounds on their body, but it's the brain that's most vulnerable. If anything goes wrong it could swell up, or he could slowly die from a bleed there. He could still lose the ability to talk or move. Do you know if he fell down when he got hurt?"  
  
"A lot of people fell from the walls. All Ragnar told me was that he found him lying on the ground, face down."  
  
"I could try some more things to see if his brain is hurt -"  
  
"Like what?" I shook my head. She sounded desperate, sinking to her knees and taking hold of my arm. I didn't want to give her false hope. She wouldn’t do that to me, either. Her keeping me away must have been about the same thing. My mind was reeling, not knowing what to think or feel as it was all just too much.  
  
"They won't work unless he wakes up first. I feel so helpless…"  
  
"Are you really able to see if something's wrong with a few of those tricks?" I turned to look at her hands on my arm, not ready to face her just yet.  
  
"I can tell where in the brain something's wrong by how someone responds and what that will mean for his quality of life, but that's about it."  
  
"You wouldn't know about that unless there is something that can be done." Lagertha now sounded strong again. Did she expect me to perform brain surgery on him or something?  
  
"There can be, where I'm from. We can see inside a body without opening it up. We would be able to see if there's any internal damage. The healers would be able to fix anything that's wrong, as long as his body can take it. But it's no use, even if I could see it I don't have anything here that could help him." Lagertha put an arm around my shoulder as she heard my voice break. I let her pull me in.  
  
"You must feel truly desperate, being here." Bjorn would be fine if this was my time. We could get him to a hospital, we would know how bad it was. But there was nothing any of us could do. He was breathing on his own, and his heart rate seemed stable for the time being. There weren't any bruises on his chest or his back, nor was his belly rigid. From what I could remember those were all good signs. But if anything would go wrong I was helpless. All I had were some vague memories of what wasn’t supposed to happen, and a little knowledge of the nervous system.  
  
For someone known for knowing things, I felt like I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know how to save Bjorn, or how to keep him alive. But I did know that if he’d end up needing me to take care of him the rest of his life I would gladly do it. I needed him to breathe, so that I could breathe. As long as his heart kept beating, mine did as well.  
  
"I know how we could save him, but I can't do anything here." As I said the words, the helplessness hit me even harder. I let my tears fall down. I held onto Lagertha for dear life, bawling my eyes out. "Even if he wakes up, what's to say he'll be fine? Lagertha, I can't live without him, he has to wake up." After all my worries and fears, after all I had done to help Ragnar, and thereby Bjorn, this couldn’t be how it ended. I needed him.  
  
"You must have faith in the gods. He didn't survive this long only to die in your arms." I didn't believe in the gods as she did. I knew that no god could ever have any influence on his healing process, it was a matter of how strong his body was, and how severely he was injured.  
  
Still, I wiped the tears from my face. Lagertha's logic was flawed, but that didn't mean I couldn't do anything. Bjorn had told me I was strong, and for lack of the gods, I had to believe in him.  
  
"He was so worried something would happen to me."  
  
"This is part of life," she said. She tried to sound a bit chiding, but her voice was thick with worry.  
  
"I know that, but seeing him like this with my own eyes…"  
  
"He knows how much you need him. He will come back to us, Bjorn has more than enough reasons to." My head knew that made no sense, but my heart was comforted by her words. "We may not have talked much, but I feel like I know you pretty well. You talk a lot when you're nervous, about things that don't really matter. Bjorn calls it being stuck in your head. Is that what's going on right now?" I let out a sad chuckle. Logic always managed to make me see reason, leaving out any and all emotion. It told me Bjorn would probably live if he made it through the day.  
  
"He's right. By now he would have told me to stop thinking and start feeling. And then I would tell him that I can't fall apart now. There's too much going on as we speak." I still hadn't told Bjorn who had killed Athelstan. The priest would be able to comfort me. He knew how to listen without giving all kinds of advice I couldn’t do shit with. "Bjorn misses you. He won't say it out loud, but I know there are times when he wishes he could talk to you." Lagertha was smiling a bit.  
  
"Like when?"  
  
"When we're fighting. It's not like Ragnar can give him advice on that, or Aslaug."  
  
"You seem to be doing well enough. I don't think he needs me as much as he thinks he does. Though he has become a bit more… How do I put this, since he's been with you he changed? He's grown up, and at the same time he can be carefree as a child. He’s grown more balanced, and somehow you taught him to be patient. How on Midgard did you manage that?" I knew what she meant. Being able to talk about anything made it so easy to be together.  
  
"We talk a lot about what we think and feel. We don't keep secrets from each other. In this life, you can either tell the other nothing and keep them in the dark, or you share everything. There's no in between." Lagertha got up and poured both of us a drink. I gladly accepted, sitting down at a nearby table.  
  
"I think you're right," Lagertha said. "The two of you two remind me of how Ragnar and I used to be. We shared everything, even our dreams. We went to England together, once." Her smile told me it was a fond memory.  
  
"What went wrong?"  
  
"Disaster struck. I lost a son, and Ragnar clung to this prophecy of him having many sons. I only gave him Bjorn." So that's why Ragnar told me never to let a prophecy get in the way. It was his way of telling me that some things are more important than getting what you want, especially if you would end up losing all you had. And he regretted at least part of his decision to marry Aslaug.  
  
"And when Aslaug showed up…" I had heard that part of the story.  
  
"And then she came to Kattegat," Lagertha sighed.  
  
"Do you think it would have turned out differently if you hadn't lost the child?"  
  
"I know it would have. But now I'm an earl in my own right. I don't like to dwell on the past." It must have been painful for her, especially with Ragnar here as well. Lagertha wasn't just strong because she was a warrior. She was so much more, and so much better than me at everything.  
  
"How's Torvi doing?" I asked to change the subject.  
  
"She already found a new husband, that lucky bastard. They got married very quickly, and he takes care of her son well enough. They moved to Roskilde, he-" Someone appeared at the entrance of the tent, making both of us look up.  
"How is he doing?" Ragnar asked as he entered. Lagertha sat up straight, none of her worries showing on her face.  
  
"Ragnhild seems to think he's got a good chance of waking up, so I think he'll be fine if he makes it through the day," Lagertha replied. I barely had any practical knowledge of the body, I only knew theory and some reflexes, but apparently, that was enough for Lagertha to keep up hope. Ragnar lowered his hand on Bjorn's shoulder, as if to support him, then he joined us at the table.  
  
"And how are you doing?" he asked me.  
  
"I'm… hanging on. If you have something to keep me occupied, that would be great."  
  
"Not at the moment. I do need to talk to Lagertha, if she doesn't mind." She got up and followed Ragnar out of the tent. I stared at Bjorn, taking him in. He looked as if he were sleeping. If I lay next to him, I could pretend we were back in Kattegat. I could fool myself into a fleeting feeling of belonging, happiness. It was better than sitting here, desperate and worrying.  
  
The cot wasn't big, but when I tried, it fit. I lay on my side, in the crook of his arm as I always did right before I fell asleep. My fingers gingerly touched his chest, feeling his slow but steady heartbeat. The tears in my eyes welled up again. A new song left my lips, sung with a broken voice.  
  
All I ever wanted  
All I ever needed  
Is here in my arms  
Words are very unnecessary  
They can only do harm  
  
I tried to remember the rest, but it had been too long since I heard the song. Maybe another one would be easier. I fell into the rhythm but couldn't find the right words. That one was lost to memory as well. How had I forgotten them? How many times hadn't I heard them, sang along? I supposed it didn't matter. It was kind of fitting; the songs were as broken as I felt. They did nothing to heal Bjorn, and barely comforted me. Maybe I should try and sing them in Norse. At the very least, it would keep me busy.  
  
It took a while, but I managed. Some bits sounded a bit rushed and didn't fit quite well, but it'd have to do. I quietly sang them to myself, trying to find some comfort in their words and melody. It was something I knew, and something that would never change.  
  
"That song makes no sense," I heard Bjorn say. I rose up, shocked.  
  
"Bjorn…" My heart rate went through the roof.  
  
"I like that one about forgetting the world," he said with a tiny smirk.  
  
"How are you feeling? Does it hurt? Should I get… Wait - how long have you been awake?"  
  
"I think since the one about keeping demons on a leash." That had been at least three songs ago.  
"Why didn't you tell me!"  
  
"Because I like it when you sing. Now lie down again, you didn't finish the song." I could have strangled him right then and there, but instead, I sighed and did as he asked.  
  
When I'd sung all the songs at least twice, I fell silent.  
  
"What is it?" Bjorn asked.  
  
"What happened out there? I never thought to ask Lagertha." Bjorn's face turned into a scowl.  
  
"King Horik ordered the trebuchets to launch when we were already attacking, flinging everything they could find. It was bad. Everyone started to panic, thinking the Franks were trying to attack us from behind. In the chaos Paris took the upper hand, and that's when I got shot. I don't know what happened after that." Horik was responsible for this? An angry shiver slowly made its way through my spine. That man would have to answer for his actions, if not to Ragnar, then to me.  
  
"That fucking bastard," I whispered.  
  
"There's nothing you can do now." He was right about Horik, but he was wrong about me.  
  
"There is," I said as I got up. Bjorn was too weak to try and stop me. "I want to do some tests to see if you're alright."  
  
"I feel fine."  
  
"You got shot in the back and have been unconscious ever since. That does not qualify as fine. Now shut the fuck up and follow my finger with your eyes." Bjorn sighed, but he did as I said.  
  
"And what does that tell you?"  
  
"It tells me you're stubborn as ever. You hit your head rather hard and need to rest before you can go off fighting again. You have some trouble keeping track."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes," he huffed.  
  
"Nothing is wrong with your eyes, but your head is hurt. Tell me about the first time we met."  
  
"Ragnhild…"  
  
"Please Bjorn, do this for me. I want to make sure you're alright. I was worried sick, and I still am."  
  
"I just got back from a raid, and you were holding Hvitserk close. You saved Ubbe's life."  
  
"How old were you when you first went to the Thing? Who was there?"  
  
"I was twelve, father took me. We met up with Rollo, and I met Floki for the first time." Good, it looked like he hadn't lost any memories. His speech centers were fine as well. If he could still move around okay, it would mean he would have at least enough function left to be able to live a somewhat normal life, no matter what else was wrong.  
  
"Can you wiggle your toes for me?"  
  
"Yes… What are all these things for?" I put my hand in his neck, checking for his pulse. It felt normal. Then I put my hand on his leg.  
  
"Can you feel my hand?"  
  
"Yes." I moved it down to his feet.  
  
"And here?"  
  
"Yes. What's going on?" I didn’t even know the words to explain it, so I just kept on ignoring him, going through the things I could come up with to see if he was able to move his limbs.  
  
"Can you move your fingers?" Bjorn held up a hand and showed me he was able to move them all. I let out a relieved sigh. "Thank the gods. You should be fine. Just let me know if you get a headache, alright? That could be bad." I took a deep breath and looked in his eyes. They didn’t know what to make of me, but I didn’t care. He was alive and well, as long as he rested up before he would go off fighting again.  
  
"Since when did you become a healer?" Bjorn asked.  
  
"I'm not, I just know things. Just enough to know what to look out for." Lagertha and Ragnar returned from their talk.  
  
"You're awake…" Lagertha knelt down beside Bjorn and put a hand on his face, gently stroking his cheek.  
  
"You should never have called me Ironside," he told his father. "As if the gods are always protecting me from harm." He sounded bitter, as if he had known he wouldn’t be able to live up to the name.  
  
"You survived, didn't you? You probably feel better than me." I glanced up at Ragnar, only now noticing how pale he was. He had fallen from the walls of Paris, of course, he was injured.  
  
"I'm so glad to see Ragnhild was right," Lagertha interjected. "I have to go, we have prepared another attack. We'll have more luck tonight." She kissed his forehead, then got up. "Keep him safe, Ragnhild." She didn't need to say it out loud.  
  
"May the gods keep you," Bjorn said. If he was sorry he couldn't join or was frightened for his mother, he didn't show it. He was probably used to seeing his parents going off to fight to the death. They had always come back before, so why would it be any different this time? I both admired his mindset and thought it foolish. I would never feel confident about Bjorn returning when he would be off raiding.  
  
"What are you going to do about Horik?" I asked Ragnar. His eyes went wide for a second, then a grand smile appeared on his face.  
  
"I should have known you would hear about that. What do you know?" Bjorn gave his account of what had happened before he got shot.  
  
"He's right. After the enemy took the upper hand, we had to retreat. Horik has been dealt with. Some of the men suggested flinging him over the walls, but that seemed like too much trouble."  
  
"That makes you the king, now," Bjorn said. Did it really work like that? That would mean that Bjorn was now the crown prince. It made me feel uncomfortable, not knowing how this would affect our lives. Bjorn being the son of an earl had already proven to be quite the hassle. If Ragnar was as badly hurt as I thought…  
  
"I am," Ragnar said as if we were discussing the weather. "But I came here because I wanted to discuss something with you." Ragnar sat down on a bench, groaning as he did. "Bjorn, you have shown tremendous bravery and leadership during the battle, despite the fact you didn't have to. I was impressed when I saw you scaling the walls." I gave Bjorn a dirty look at his father's praise. I had warned him not to do anything stupid. "Ragnhild, you have proven yourself very resourceful. Sometimes I hear you speak in riddles like those of the Seer. I went to him before we left, and I was hoping you might make sense of his words than I did." He did have a puzzle for me, but he didn't want Lagertha to know about it. It probably had to do with the second attack she was preparing right now.  
  
"I can try. What did he tell you?"  
  
"He told me the dead will conquer Paris, not the living." I didn't know what to make of that.  
  
"Okay… So… What can dead bodies do to a city?" My mind wandered to zombies, but I doubted a zombie Viking army would be a sensible option.  
  
"Not much," Bjorn said. Ragnar sat back, watching the exchange between me and Bjorn unfold.  
  
"They can spread disease… But they would have to be infected before they died. It can take a while for an entire city to get infected and die. Paris would sooner starve. Their food would be kept for the nobility and the fighters." I put two fingers to my lip, as I often did when I was solving problems.  
  
"You don't happen to know about any dead monsters? One of your many tales perhaps?"  
  
"I can think of a few… Zombies, vampires, succubae… But they are undead, not truly dead. They just… Died once, and then came back to life I guess?" Bjorn scoffed.  
  
"How can something be dead and alive at the same time?"  
  
"I guess it depends on how you look at it. If you think something is dead, that doesn't mean they…" My eyes widened. I almost started hyperventilating. Bjorn just lay there, unaware to the marvelous idea that had come to mind. I had trouble speaking through my excitement.  
  
"How do you know if something has died? What is proof of that?"  
  
"You make no sense," Bjorn sighed. I was getting a bit tired of hearing that.  
  
"How do you know if someone is dead? What do you see? Humor me, answer my question."  
  
"You err… See a dead body? A pool of blood? Wounds?"  
  
"What if you saw a pyre with a body on top of it?"  
  
"I would assume that the person on top of it is dead. But what does this have to do with anything?"  
  
"Christians bury their dead in caskets, a sealed off, wooden box. You don't get to see the body. There's a service in the church, and everyone gathers to pay their respects. Do you remember the tale I told you about that giant wooden horse?" It took a second, but then a light started to shine in his eyes.  
  
"We can sneak someone in with an honor guard, and extra weapons in the - caesket you called it? If we can manage to get a few of us inside the city walls…"  
  
"If it's an influential person, everyone that slightly matters to the city will be there."  
  
"We can take hostages, fight our way to the city gates, and the rest can come in without a problem." Only now Ragnar spoke.  
  
"You two are both impressive, but together… I should have asked you straight away. It took me two moons to figure out." He had a sad smile on his face despite his kind words.  
  
"Why did you send out another attack if you've already found a way to take the city?" I wondered out loud.  
  
"Because Paris needs to know we won't give up, and they need to be willing to send an envoy. If Paris wants to help bury a dead man because that will make an army leave their lands, that man will have to become a Christian." And he would have to be important enough to justify the army staying put. It would have to be a half-truth to be convincing.  
  
"Will you live that long, and still be able to fight?" I asked with a heavy heart. I felt Bjorn's eyes shift from me to his father and back.  
  
"I was hoping you could tell me. You seem to have answers to questions we don't think to ask. Surprise me once more." My first aid diploma from high school and binge-watching hospital shows had not prepared me for this. I put my hands to my face and groaned. What was he expecting of me? He should be in a hospital, getting treated by doctors. They might be able to save him, what was I supposed to do? I dropped my hands, stood up straight and sighed deeply.  
  
"I have no idea what you expect me to do, but fine. I'll play along. Tell me, where does it hurt?"  
  
"Everywhere."  
  
"Do the tips of your fingers hurt?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then stop lying to me. Where does it hurt?" He scoffed, then indicated a few places on his chest. He was already acting like a petulant child. "Take off your shirt." As he did, I noticed a stiffness in his muscles coming from the left shoulder. He could raise his arm, but it was painful. I looked at his back and saw a huge bruise, but there was nothing strange for me to find. It could be an internal bleed, but there was little I could do about that.  
  
"If anything hurts more than a bruise, tell me. No brave face and lying about being fine. If you're not honest, I can't tell you how bad it is." By carefully pressing on a few places on the bruise, and a lack of response from Ragnar, I deduced he didn't break anything there. No weird swellings anywhere, it just seemed heavily bruised.  
  
"This one seems fine. Do you feel any pain when I press on your ribs?" I went around his rib cage, pressing with a firm hand. I heard him wince, but he didn't say he was in pain. I slapped the bruise on his shoulder. Ragnar just grunted.  
"Are you just messing with me? Should I stab you with a knife to check if you're hurt?" He was testing my patience. With the stress of the past weeks and Bjorn coming back injured, I didn't feel up to his games.  
  
"Is she this rough with you as well, son? I didn't think you would go for that." That was it. I slapped him in the face and left the tent, fuming. I didn't care where I went, I just wanted to get away from that man. I helped destroy the city, and just now I had helped come up with a new plan. How could he be so like my father at one time, and be the complete opposite at others? I screamed in frustration, trying to deal with the anger surging through me.


	88. Prophecies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-07-802

"It seems those that were already cracked have now broken," I heard a voice to my left say. I stopped hurrying through the camp, seeing Rollo clean off his axe. He looked tired and dirty, but no worse for wear. "How's Bjorn doing?" The concern in his voice didn't make me any less angry at him.  
  
"He's fine. He just woke up." Rollo let out a relieved sigh at my words. Whatever love he held for Bjorn, it hadn't flown over into care for me yet. "What did you mean?"  
  
"Floki snapped during the battle. He couldn't handle the pressure. And apparently, neither could you. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised."  
  
"Don't start with me, Rollo. I'm already in the mood to kill your brother, don't make me switch marks."  
  
"You women are too emotional," he said with a smirk. That fucking turd... No. I would not give him the pleasure. I suppressed my anger and stood next to him.  
  
"No wonder Siggy was glad to see you go," I said in a soft voice. I thought it would take more, but he was speechless. I left him alone, wanting to steer clear from both brothers now. How either of them had made a woman love them was a mystery to me. Siggy, Lagertha, Aslaug, they were all fools.  
  
The camp was too small to go off far, so I found myself back at the tent I shared with Bjorn after fifteen minutes of brisk walking. I was surprised to see Bjorn resting there.  
  
"Back so soon?" he asked when he saw me.  
  
"I was about to ask the same. Is it a good idea for you to move around?" I sat down next to him, stroking his face as he rested a hand on my leg.  
  
"Probably not, but I had to leave. What Ragnar said..." My anger was still close to the surface.  
  
"I know, right! I was about to strangle him. Then Rollo made it even worse." Bjorn squeezed a bit, cutting off any further ranting.  
  
"He meant to get you out of there. He had something to say to me in private." What? Ragnar knew we were honest with each other about everything. He could have just asked me to leave if it was really that important. Unless…  
  
Ragnar didn't know if Bjorn wanted me to hear it as well. He wanted Bjorn to have a choice in bringing it up with me, just like I had a decision to make about telling Bjorn I knew Floki had killed Athelstan.  
  
"There was something else that the Seer told him. Supposedly..." What was going on here? Bjorn was hardly ever lost for words, or hesitant to bring anything up. "The Seer told him I am to marry a princess."  
  
"A princess?" I felt the breath get knocked out of me. If he was to marry a princess, that meant he wouldn't marry me. I knew he could have two wives, but... I always thought that he would be mine alone. It hadn't even crossed my mind. But I was certain that I wouldn't share him, ever.  
  
Bjorn tried to get up, but I wouldn't let him. I leaned over to keep him down, determined to avoid his eyes. If he truly wanted to marry another, there was little I could do but accept it and move on with my life. It might not be relevant now but in five years, or ten... I would leave him over it.  
  
"I have no idea why he would say such a thing. 'The princess shall crown the bear,' he said. I told him he was insane. I love you, and I intend to marry you. I will always love you, and only you. No prophecy will change that." My heart fluttered at his words. I wanted to show him just how much I cared for him, but I was too afraid of hurting him. I settled for a soft kiss. Five to ten years was better than no years at all. Without him, I wouldn't know how to survive. My hands fussed over his furs, and my hair, and my eyes kept finding things I should clean or clear away.  
  
"Ragnhild... Don't hide away from me. I know you want to hide away right now. Are you worried it might happen anyway? That I'll leave you?" I kept my eyes downcast and took a deep breath. It came out ragged.  
  
"I want to marry you, too. But if you ever so much as suggest taking on a second wife I'll leave you just for bringing it up." My eyes darted over to his, and to my surprise, he was smiling.  
  
"I thought you would fear me not marrying you... And here you are, staking your claim." He sat up despite my protests and pulled me close. "I was so afraid you've been pushing yourself too hard ever since Kalf, but you've always been this strong. It's like..."  
  
"I've always been the strong one," I whispered. "You told me so often I'm starting to believe you."  
  
"It’s true," he said with a gentle caress of his hand over my collarbone. "You can't ever hope to beat me in a fight, but when it comes to fighting with your mind, I can't ever hope to match you. I would be lost without you. I meant it when I said I would defy the gods for you."  
  
"How is it that you always know just what to say to me?" I asked as I rested my head on his chest. He showed me a confident smile.  
  
"I'm just that good." I swatted at his face, but he caught my hand. He kissed the palm, then laid it on his cheek. "What do you think about the prophecy? I'm sure Ragnar misunderstood the words." I didn't fail to notice how Bjorn used his father's name more lately. He was breaking free from the idea that his father knew all and did everything right.  
  
As for the prophecy, nothing like a puzzle to keep me occupied. The thought that Ragnar wanted to break me and Bjorn apart was enough to make me spit venom. A princess, a crown, and a bear...  
  
Bjorn's name was easily guessed, but the other two... I pushed the emotions that whirled through me away. I needed to think on this logically, see beyond the literal meaning.  
  
"A crown of gold, a crown of thorns... 'A wife of noble character is her husband's crown, but a disgraceful wife is like decay in his bones.' Oh wait, that last one is from the Bible, I doubt the Seer would go there." Bjorn tried to follow my words, but he knew better than to interrupt me. "Let's leave that for a second. A princess is of royal blood, the picture of grace and calm, an embodiment of impeccable moral character... What do they do... They get married off for alliances, bear children, entertain guests... They become queens, marry ki - They marry kings. No, this can't be." I stared at Bjorn, who was just as surprised as me.  
  
I took in a deep breath, wondering if I should even bring it up. But there were already too many secrets between me and Bjorn, and I didn't want there to be any more.  
  
"If I tell you a secret, one that no one knows about, will you take it to your grave? I know we always swore to tell the truth, but this is one of the things from my homeland that can very easily be misunderstood. Remember me freaking out about the trebuchets? That kind of confusion, but double. Triple. And don't tell me I don't make sense, I know you're thinking that right now. Even if I die, even if we grow apart by some sick twist of fate, you have to keep this to yourself." I couldn't believe what I was about to tell him. I had felt a sliver of relief when the last person whom I told had died. And now I would tell another.  
  
"I have no idea what this could be about, but I trust you. If I have to swear on anything important to me, I swear it on my love for you." Why did he have to say things like that at moments like these? The mix of pain, embarrassment, and love I felt was excruciating. We had such a beautiful moment going on, and the secrets I had been keeping were going to ruin it.  
  
"My parents were Christian, so they gave me a Christian name. My birth name is Maria de Koning. Which translates to Mary the King." Also, Floki killed Athelstan. I come from the future. "And it's possible to take my last name when we marry or add it to yours. You would be known as Bjorn "Ironside" Ragnarsson-The King." Bjorn tried to get up too fast, but his wounds stopped him. He let out a manly wince, grimacing only a bit.  
  
"You dipshit, don't do that!" I wanted to peek under the bandages to check if his wounds had reopened, but he caught my hand again. He stared into my eyes with a look any girl could only dream of seeing in the eyes of her lover.  
  
"You tell me we're prophesied to marry, and the first thing you do is make sure I'm not hurt." He brushed a hand against my cheek so softly I could barely feel it. "What did I do to make the gods think I deserve you? You don't always make sense to me, but it's one of the things about you I have grown to love. And despite your troubles accepting me being Viking, you have grown to love that side of me. You once told me we would have to work hard and try to compromise, and maybe we'd make it. Well, if this isn't it, I don't know what will be. I know I'm not on my knees, but I also know you'll forgive me. Ragnhild... Maria... Will you marry me?" Yes! Yes, of course, Bjorn, yes! I want to be your wife, I want to have your children, I want it all. You make me feel loved and secure, and safe. I want to spend the rest of my life with you!  
  
Instead of saying those words out loud, I started to cry. They weren't tears of joy, but tears of despair. I buried my face in my hands, feeling like I wanted to disappear again. I hadn't felt like that in a long time. I didn't want Bjorn to touch me, but I couldn't bear to move. I wanted to feel safe in his arms, I wanted him to comfort me, but he... I would break his heart and his trust in me. I had to tell him about Floki. I tried to force down my feelings, shut them up, if only for a moment. I tried to breathe, but as soon as my eyes caught Bjorn's, I lost it again. I had to get out. I couldn't handle this right now.  
  
His love for me was so intense and pure, but I had managed to screw things up once more. I had betrayed his trust, I had never been completely honest with him.  
  
"Ragnhild!" he shouted, but I left anyway. "Rag -" His pleas were cut off by a coughing fit. I wanted to check on him, but I shouldn't. I couldn't. I just needed to get out. I didn't care if I'd go outside of the camp, I wanted to get away from all the people surrounding me. Floki. He'd be able to - no. Somewhere else.  
  
I was almost at the gate when I recognized Ragnar sitting in front of the exit. I slowed down, not sure why he would even be there.  
  
"You might make no sense, but you're hardly unpredictable," he said as I reached him. "Bjorn has told you." What? "I must say, I was hoping you would prove me wrong." The prophecy. Ragnar was talking about the princess and the bear. He thought we'd been fighting over that.  
  
"How could you?" I asked.  
  
"How could I what? Prepare my son for the fact he is not destined to be with you? Wouldn't it be crueler to wait until you are with child? Another on the way, perhaps? The way I see it, I did both of you a kindness."  
  
"You can stick that kindness where the sun doesn't shine," I spat. "After all that I've done for you..."  
  
"You're still young. You will learn to love again. I did this out of love for both of you. I knew what it would cost me." The fact he was so sure of himself only made me angrier. He didn't deserve to see me cry; I didn't want his comfort, or his excuses.  
  
"I don't need this shit from you. You stupid, sadistic, abusive fucking dick! You didn't even have the balls to tell me to my face!" He would manage to stop me if I tried to leave the camp, even with his injuries. Before there would be an even larger audience, I turned around and walked away. There was nowhere for me to go.  
  
In every corner of this camp, there were people I was hoping to avoid. In this forest of Viking, I felt so lost and alone. Maybe Lagertha would understand, but she had already left the camp. There was nothing left for me to do. I had to return to Bjorn. The thought of it almost made me cry again. No, I couldn't. I had to be strong. Bjorn had always been my safety. It was easier to tell him the truth than it was to cuss out Ragnar.  
  
I was almost at the tent when I saw his body lying halfway through the opening. I hurried towards him, praying he wouldn't be in pain.  
  
"Bjorn," I whispered as I fell to my knees. "Bjorn, please. Don't be dead. I'll kill you if you're dead." I still felt a pulse.  
  
"Ragnhild..." It was barely more than a sigh.  
  
"You fucking idiot!" I shouted in a whisper. "Did you think you could come after me? Just because I'm stupid doesn't mean you need to be, too! Come on, let's get you back inside." It took some effort, but I managed to get him back underneath the furs again. I didn't speak a word until I had checked his wounds to my satisfaction and tucked him in. He was drowsy from the effort, but he fought to stay awake. I sat down next to him, one hand on his heart and one on mine.  
  
"I'm an idiot," I said, all my emotions neatly tucked away. "I shouldn't have run off like that. I'm sorry. I love you, and I love all the things you said. They're true. The reason I started crying was... I have been keeping something from you. Something Viking, it doesn't have anything to do with my homeland. I found out something right before we left, but I was still so mad at you... And I couldn't tell you on the boat. It was too risky. And then with everything we've been working on here... I was afraid it would make you more reckless in the fight, and now... I've made a mess of things, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." My eyes were blurry with tears again. I didn't dare look Bjorn in the eye. And I had yet to tell the secret I kept. He put a hand on my knee, begging me to tell him.  
  
"I know who killed Athelstan," I whispered. "I promised him I wouldn't tell you, I hate the idea of betraying a friend... But I also don't want to keep it from you. And then you proposed, and I panicked, and then I yelled at Ragnar, and I feel like my entire life has gone to shit." I buried my face in my hands, wanting to hide the shame I felt. It was good to finally get it off my chest, but I was afraid of how he might respond. I heard Bjorn scoff, then groan.  
  
"Once again, you make no sense to me. I would never want you to feel trapped like that. Ragnhild, I love you and I trust you. Like I told you, often. How could I fault you for not wanting to betray a friend? If I could, I'd wrap my arms around you and never let you go. I love you, and neither prophecies, my father nor such secrets will ever come between us."  
  
"We'd better get married as soon as possible then, before I'm the one that will mess up everything with fear and panic," I joked as I dried my eyes.  
  
"Why not? We could do it tomorrow." My eyes went wide as I let my hands rest in my lap, playing a bit with his arm ring.  
  
"But there are a thousand traditions and rituals. I'm not sure if we even can elope."  
  
"Who says we have to get married in my tradition? What would it require for yours?" The way he talked, he made it sound like he had given this some thought already.  
  
"Two rings, two witnesses and someone to perform the ceremony. It wouldn't have to take more than five minutes." I explained the vows and ritual involved, and Bjorn grinned.  
  
"That actually sounds like fun. More time to get drunk. We could get those things tonight if you want to." Getting married... Tomorrow. It was such a commitment, but with Bjorn... I couldn't imagine living my life with anyone else but him. I knew I wanted to be with him, no matter what cruel fate the gods had in store for the both of us.  
  
"I'd like very much for you to be able to walk when we get married, finding those things will prove much easier that way."  
  
"Tomorrow then," he promised. Shit... This was real, he had that look in his eyes, the stubborn one that meant I would have to give it my all to even try and convince him otherwise. He really wanted to marry me, tomorrow. I'd be married to him, and fuck what everyone else thought or said. But on the other hand... The way he showed me how much he loved me and the way he told me... It was more than stubbornness. He loved me, and to him, that was all that mattered.

"Tomorrow," I promised in return. "If you can walk."


	89. What's In A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-07-802

I woke up feeling restless. I was dying to get married, but I wanted Bjorn to get all the rest he could get. I was thinking about what lay ahead. We'd have to find a minister. I had no idea who would be able to perform the ceremony. Who would even be willing? And where were we going to find rings?  
  
I preferred a marriage ceremony without any interference from God, but I thought that would be highly unlikely. We'd have to find a priest willing to marry a pagan and an atheist, that was going to be difficult enough. The priest wouldn't even speak our language. Then two witnesses, who really could be anyone. They just had to… be able to sign. But what document? Could Bjorn even write his name? And then the rings… Where were we going to get those? I groaned, realizing eloping wasn't going to be as easy as we thought.  
  
"You're up already?" My head shot to the side, seeing Bjorn had opened his eyes.  
  
"Oh, hey. Did I wake you? Does it still hurt?" I tried to check on his wounds, but he stopped me.  
  
"I'm fine. I had you with me, so I slept well. I woke up because I had to. Why would my soon to be wife be groaning like that without letting me join in?" I put my elbow to his ribs, carefully.  
  
"I may have thought of some problems with our plan…" As I explained my worries, Bjorn agreed it would be difficult.  
  
"But we can ask the wanderer to come with us," he said as he rolled on his side. I wanted to feel his backside, but I strained to hold back. Bjorn noticed, smiling as he took hold of my itching hand and kissed it. "Sinric will be able to translate what we want, and we'd have our first witness." I tried to kiss Bjorn for coming up with such a simple solution, but he shied away. "What are you doing, woman? I'm supposed to get married today! Have you met my fiancée? I heard she slapped a king in the face once. You wouldn't want to meet her." The fucking nerve on that guy… I wanted to swat at him, but he still held my hand.  
  
Seeing him this cheerful filled my heart with joy. Bjorn didn't make jokes like this often, and it always served as a gentle reminder that things were going well. He was excited, he wanted to marry me. Despite all my shortcomings and lingering issues, despite prophecies from the gods, and despite me fearing for his life only yesterday. It was almost as if being around me made him stronger. I understood that feeling all too well.  
  
"Only if you can walk, Ironside," I reminded him. "I don't want you collapsing halfway through. What would I tell our children?" Bjorn rolled on top of me and kissed me, proving he was feeling rather good about his odds. If I hadn't seen him lying unconscious yesterday, I would have thought he wasn't that badly hurt at all. Still, my hands went over his bandages. He let out a disappointed hum, but his lips formed into a smile.  
  
"There’s just no stopping you, is there?" he asked as his smile got too big to keep on kissing.  
  
"You fell off the walls of Paris yesterday. You got shot in the back, twice. Don’t make me out to be too worried over wanting to make sure you’ll be alive long enough to marry me a second time." His face softened, if only a little.  
  
"Honestly, it feels fine. I know you’ve every right to be worried, but I’m not putting on a brave face. You’ve felt it, the wounds have closed. It just needs to heal now, and that will go faster when I move around and do as much as I can." He was right, but I didn’t like it one bit. "Besides, I think there’s more important things to worry about. You never told me, is sex different when we're engaged?" His eagerness to find out did nothing to keep me from worrying.  
  
"At the least you won’t have to worry about me scratching up your back," I sighed. Worried as I was, I couldn’t deny that Bjorn seemed alright in every sense of the word. The healers had done a better job than I had expected, and the wounds had probably not been that bad to begin with.  
  
Bjorn started smiling as I pulled back my hair. It turned into a grin when I started lifting up my nightgown. He still wore his dirty, bloodied pants. He grunted as he tried to raise up his butt to take them off, giving me an idea.  
  
"You poor thing," I lamented after I’d helped him out of it. Bjorn started to protest, but I silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Let me take care of you. I’ll nurse you back to health." I dragged my finger down to his chest, following up with a trail of kisses.  
  
"Oh, yes, I’m terribly hurt," he said as he caught my drift. I shifted around as I pulled off his pants. "Can you heal me?"  
  
"I’ll do my best…" I bit my lip and let out a longing sigh as I stroked his penis, then kissed it. "Is it working?"  
  
"I don’t know. Try it again, just to be sure." I kissed him again, and a third time. "Ohh… Yeah, that’s working. Keep going." I giggled at the whole of it. Playing nurse like this felt naughty, especially as it was well past noon and people were bound to catch a few moans.  
  
Bjorn groaned as I licked the length of his dick. I kept a careful eye on his chest to check his breathing, but it seemed fine. As our eyes met, I saw how eager he was for me to go on. He would tell me if I took it too far. I could trust him. Out of all the people in the world, he was the one who had earned my trust most.  
  
"I think it’s time to try something more rigorous," I said as I pushed my breasts together with my elbows, determined to stop worrying over his wounds as I focused on our little game.  
  
"You would know best," he agreed. Bjorn propped up his head on an arm to take full advantage of his view. I maintained eye contact as I took his head into my mouth. "Ohh… Oh yeah, that feels like it’s working..." As my tongue swirled around the tip of his dick, I felt it throb. I grabbed hold of it and started jerking him off as my tongue focused on the tip. The more I saw him enjoy, the more riled up I got myself. My own breathing grew heavy, as well.  
  
I kept a slow pace for once, wanting Bjorn to simply enjoy himself. This wasn’t about sex as much as it was about sharing intimacy. Seeing him fight the urge to get up told me just how well he thought I was performing.  
  
"Fuck me," he breathed after a while. I was more than happy to. As I sunk down on his dick, the sopping sound brought a smile to my face.  
  
"If your face is anything to go by, I’d say the sex is indeed better than ever," Bjorn said. He tried to sit up too fast and had to cling to my arm to keep from falling back. I put my arms around his back and held him, all play gone from me.  
  
"I’m okay," he breathed. "I just moved a bit too fast, I’ll be fine." That would not fly over with me, not again. He saw it spelled out on my face. "Ragnhild, I swear. I need to take it slow, but that’s why you’re on top right now." He wanted me to trust him on this, but the idea of losing him wasn’t far from my mind. He had no idea how worried I had been for the both of us. I didn’t want him to know, which was worst of all. I was so confused about how I should feel and what I felt, maybe it was better to call it quits.  
  
"We should be getting up anyway, we’ve got a busy day today." Bjorn let out a disappointed hum as he looked down. I flexed my pelvic muscles out of reflex, making his lip quiver a bit.  
  
"I was kind of liking the idea of you taking care of me like that…"  
  
I needed to trust him. If anything he had shown me that he took my worries to heart and watched his own boundaries just fine on his own. I took in a deep breath and pushed on the worry and mistrust that had caused me so many troubled already. If I was serious about wanting to be more trusting of the people in my life that had not given me cause to be wary, I might as well start now.  
  
I put on a genuine smile and leaned forward, letting my nipples slide over Bjorn’s chest. I would take care of him in a way that would make him want to get hurt again.  
  
"Oh, I’m sure you do. You’ll need my tender love and care for a while longer. No one gets shot in the back and walks away a day later." He looked like he wanted to object but thought better of it as I kissed him. He let his hands slide down to my hips and caressed my bottom before he started urging me to continue.  
  
"They would if they had you to take care of them," he said as I let out a soft moan. He pulled me close every time I sank down on his cock, filling me up even more. It took effort to keep my nails to myself. My hands slid down to the bandage, to remind myself of why I had to be careful. With my head in his neck I rolled my hips just a bit faster.  
  
I was fucking my fiancé. The thought suddenly shot through my head, causing my stomach to fill with butterflies. My eyes opened wide as I felt my skin against his, it was like I was waking up somehow. I was alive, and so was Bjorn. We could keep fucking and loving each other for years to come, and no one would ever come between us. I wouldn’t disappear, and he wouldn’t die. We were safe as could be, and we would get married today.  
  
"I love you so much," I whispered, then I got taken over by my orgasm. Eyes wide open, it was more intense than ever. I moaned and yelped in Bjorn’s ear, inadvertently helping him come, too.  
  
"Fuck… I was just joking, but this…" I cut off his mumbling with a kiss. Words weren’t necessary, not when we held each other like this. Not when we loved each other this fiercely.  
  
By the time we got out of the tent, the camp was already bustling. We caught some loose words on how it all had gone over last night, but nothing definitive. Bjorn seemed steadfast as ever, seemingly walking without a trace of pain or discomfort. Was he not worried to see if Lagertha was still alive? We hadn't heard back from her yet.  
  
We had no idea how the attack had gone over, or how Ragnar was feeling. He was heavily injured, he needed to rest. He would never agree to lie in bed while his friends and family were fighting to get him rich and famous. Even Floki wasn't feeling well, and here we were, happy as could be.  
  
Bjorn noticed my dropped mood and pulled me close, kissed me, then walked on. Just like that, I felt a little better.  
  
Lagertha was having breakfast in her tent, making me feel a lot better. Pleasantly surprised to see Bjorn up and about, she invited us to join her for a bite.  
  
"How are you feeling?" she asked Bjorn.  
  
"Oh, I've never been better," he said, barely able to contain a smile. "How did it go last night?"  
  
"All to Helheim. I barely made it out alive. We lost the wanderer, and some very skilled men." Bjorn's smile disappeared as fast as snow in a desert. "What's going on? You wouldn't be keeping something from me, would you?" Her eyes shot to me as Bjorn remained silent.  
  
"We were kind of hoping…" I couldn't lie to the woman. She was to be my mother-in-law, and since I found out she was earl Ingstad she had been nothing but kind and supportive, especially yesterday.  
  
"Ragnhild and I are planning to get engaged when we get back to Kattegat," Bjorn said as he took my hand, our fingers entwining for her to see. "She's willing to follow all of the Viking customs, but instead of picking our traditions because there aren't any other options, we thought it might be nice to do both." Was Bjorn lying to his mother? I wiped off my sweaty palm on my dress, keeping my eyes on our joined hands.  
  
No, it wasn't a lie. Not if he was honest about liking it. I had only just vowed to keep my mistrust down, and already it shone through again. If we managed to get everything we needed, Bjorn and I wouldn't only be lovers. We would be family, the type that I had never known before. The good kind, that I could depend on. He would catch me when I fell, and I would do the same for him.  
  
"Ragnhild told me about it, and it sounds sweet and simple. We'd rather do it here though, instead of back home. Others might not be as understanding. So we were hoping the wanderer could help us get all the things we need." Lagertha seemed unconvinced, but she was thinking about it.  
  
"It wouldn't be a wedding like you know them to be," I said, hoping to reassure her. "Anything but. No gods, just vows, and rings. It's only about us, and how much we love each other." This seemed to convince her at least enough to hear us out. "What would you need?" She returned to her breakfast. I barely managed to stomach even the smallest bite, nervous about how she would react.  
  
"Someone who is able to perform the ceremony, two rings, and two witnesses." She let out a laugh at my simple answer.  
  
"Well, being an earl in my own right, I think I can perform this ceremony of yours. Count me in." I should've thought of this sooner, she would be perfect. With Lagertha performing the ceremony, we wouldn't have to force some Frankish priest to do it.  
  
This was actually happening. I would marry Bjorn today, he would be my husband. My stomach went all aflutter again. As his eyes found mine, I fell in love all over again. The feeling from before took over, and for a moment Bjorn was my entire world.  
  
"I’ll go find us some rings," he said as he got up. I held onto the blissful feeling and felt myself starting to blush. Lagertha’s knowing smile did little to force it down.  
  
"Answer me this," Lagertha said, all kinds of serious all of a sudden. It made me sit up straight, fearing what she might want to know. "If you are to be married you will need a last name. I know you picked a new first name when you got here." It didn't surprise me that she knew. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out when I didn't speak a word of the language when I got here, but I hadn't been worried over having a last name. Ragnhild had always been fine, I never really needed one before. "I - I don't know. Where I come from it's customary to take your husband's last name." That would make me a Ragnarsson… No, a Ragnarsdottir. That just sounded wrong, somehow. Even Lagertha ignored the suggestion.  
  
"You could just use your own last name," Lagertha said just a bit too casually. She was just as curious as Ragnar, but usually, she hid it better.  
  
"That's not a good idea. You probably couldn't pronounce it, and… Well, I don't like it, for starters. It only reminds me of my past, and I'd really rather forget all about that. Our last names are passed on through our fathers…" She had heard enough about that to know not to press on. Either Siggy or Bjorn had told her.  
  
"And your mother's name?"  
  
"It's not suited, either… Her - her name was Elske." Which meant as much as 'to make love' in Norse. I flushed a bit as Lagertha started snickering.  
  
"The more I hear, the more I think you're from some insane world we couldn't even hope to understand. I see how you'd not be fond of being named Elskerdottir." Not to mention it was very much a Frisian name. "Then I wonder, what will you be known as?" She wanted me to make a suggestion, her eyes curious as she took me in.  
  
"Well… I suppose it just has to be some name," I mused. Half the town was called Sigurdsomething, at the least no one would be able to glean any meaning from it.  
  
"You might have little choice, Ragnhild. You have no family, not by blood." She was right. I couldn't very well just make up a name I happened to like and pretend it was the name of one of my parents. That would only make more people want to look into my past, regardless.  
  
"Maybe I… No, that's ridiculous," I sighed. There was one person I had some sort of connection to in this world that wasn't about to become my family, or was a close friend.  
  
"Let's hear it, I'll tell you if it's strange or not."  
  
"It's too vain, never mind."  
  
"Ragnhild." She gave me an intense stare.  
  
"I was thinking, since I'm already her vessel…" I stared at my fingers, nervously picking at the nails.  
  
"Ragnhild Freyjasdottir…" I felt a warm calm wash over me as I heard it spoken out loud. It didn't sound that bad, not at all, in fact. My eyes looked up, full of hope that Lagertha wouldn't shut me down. "It does have a nice ring to it, I suppose." I didn't want to smile, a little worried it might get rejected, still.  
  
"I like it," I said firmer than I felt.  
  
"Ragnhild Freyjasdottir. It's decided, then." I took in a deep breath, happy with the decision. "You just keep on surprising us, don't you? I thought I'd be gray and old by the time you would decide to marry my son. What bothers me most is that I think he would actually wait for you all that time." I smiled at her words, liking how everyone could see how much Bjorn loved me.  
  
"I know I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And yesterday was a lesson that might not be as long as I am used to."  
  
"Don't marry him out of fear," she warned me.  
  
"I'm marrying him out of love. That's all there is to it." There was no doubt in my mind, at all. I would marry Bjorn, we'd start a family, and I would love him until the day I died.  
  
"This could actually be a smart move," she said. "It is customary for the bride's family to aid in the marriage rituals, and this will give me a good excuse to help you. I thought I'd never get to do something like that for my…" She stopped talking. I put a hand on her arm.  
  
"From what Bjorn told me about Gyda, she would have been a beautiful bride. You would have done great for her." The hint of surprise in her eyes vanished as she started to smile. To the Viking, the dead were supposed to be remembered, not spoken of.  
  
"And after this, I'll have a daughter once more." No words could describe what I felt. Her confidence as she spoke the words, her resolve, she meant it. She was on our side.  
  
When Bjorn had found suitable rings, we decided to set out on horseback. I was a bit worried about Bjorn's wounds, but they didn't seem to bother him anymore. I just hoped he wasn't putting on a brave face despite his injuries.  
  
We went into the forest, to where Floki had hidden away. He looked like he still hadn't slept, dark circles around his eyes. Helga sat nearby, cleaning the dishes from their breakfast.  
  
"Lagertha?" Helga was surprised to see the three of us. "Bjorn, I thought you were injured…"  
  
"I'm doing a lot better. Ragnhild made sure I'm fine. We came to ask you for a favor." Helga glanced to where Floki was sitting, deep in thought and muttering to the gods.  
  
"I'm not sure if Floki's up for anything right now. He's been… off." I felt a pang of guilt. He had asked me to stay with him as the trebuchets fired and I had refused him. Some part of me felt responsible for how he felt. I walked up to him and sat down beside him, keeping some distance.  
  
"What happened wasn't our fault," I told him. "Bjorn and Ragnar told me what happened."  
  
"The gods have deserted us. Why would it matter what happened?" Floki wasn't one to feel sorry for himself, but now he was drenched in self-pity and loathing. He had killed Athelstan to come here and guide us towards victory, was he finally showing remorse for that?  
  
"The gods are vicious cunts, I've told you that before." I expected him to lash out, but he only stared at me with a blank expression. "Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something."  
  
"Did Ragnar send you?" He sounded bitter.  
  
"No, even better. We want to do something despite Ragnar." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "He told Bjorn last night that he and I are not meant to be. So we want to get married as soon as possible." Floki blew a raspberry, showing a glimpse of his former self.  
  
"That can't be done in a day," he chided. "I thought we taught you enough to know that."  
  
"Not according to the Viking way, no… But I have my own traditions and ways, as you well know. Where I'm from, you don't need gods to get married. You just need each other, someone to perform the ceremony, and two witnesses." His eyes passed over the others, grimacing as he caught on why we had come by.  
  
"It won't count without the gods there. Why bother?"  
  
"Because it would count for me and Bjorn. We'll do it the right way when we're back, but for now… In any case, you look like you could use a drink. It won't take long. I'd very much like you to be a part of it."  
  
"I don't feel like doing anything," he muttered as he leaned back, watching the sky.  
  
"You don't have to. Just stand still as Lagertha weds us, and then come with us to drink." Floki kept silent, lying still but for his eyes.  
  
"The gods won't like it," he said after a minute.  
  
"Then they'll be angry at Bjorn and me, not you." Floki was all out of excuses and grumbled a bit as he got up.  
  
"Don't come crying when the gods get back at you for this."  
  
We rode for about ten minutes, then halted near a stream. There were beautiful flowers surrounding us, making me less worried about not having a bouquet. Helga insisted on braiding a few flowers into my hair, and I let her. I still had to think of something to say about how much I loved Bjorn, and I found it hard to find the words now push came to shove.  
  
As we took our places, Bjorn couldn't resist letting his hand slide through my hair, love written all over his face. We were really going to do this. Lagertha cleared her throat, making Bjorn and I remember ourselves.  
  
"We're here to celebrate the love between Bjorn and Ragnhild. We saw it begin, and blossom, and now it has come full bloom. Together, they have overcome much, and they have grown stronger because of it, together. Let them remember this day and let them cherish it in troubled times. Look into each other's eyes and realize you will find everything you ever need in there." I couldn't stop smiling, and neither could Bjorn. He only tore his eyes away when he looked down for a moment, taking in a deep breath before he looked up and spoke.  
  
"My sweet Ragnhild. You're the strongest woman I know. You're more than just my lover. You're my teacher, my friend, and my ally. I know I can trust you more than anyone in this world, and that you will always take care of me. And I can only hope that I'll be able to support you like you support me. That I can love you like you deserve and can take care of you as you need. You make me stronger. You make me feel like we can take on the world. With you by my side, I will never lose. I love you, and I always will." His words brought me close to tears. I wanted to pull him close, to kiss him, but that had to wait for a little while longer.  
  
"When I got here, I didn't have anything. I was barely surviving, and then… Then I met you. You brought color to my life. You showed me how to live. You showed me I can love and be loved. You taught me to believe in myself, and to trust. "Already, I owe you so much. I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for all the love you give me, for the trust you put in me, and for all the time and energy you put into making me the woman that I am today. I love you, not just with my heart, but with all there is to me. You are the love of my life, and I will keep on loving you until I die." I meant it. I felt like the happiest woman alive. Just the sight of Bjorn was enough to bring me to tears.  
  
"That was beautiful, both of you," Lagertha said with a grand smile. "Are you ready for the next part?" I nodded, and Bjorn took a ring from Floki's hand.  
  
"Ragnhild Freyjasdottir. With this ring, I promise to love you, and honor you, and do whatever I can to support you in whatever battles you may face." Damn Vikings… I felt tears burning behind my eyes as he put the ring on my finger. I took a deep, ragged breath and blinked a few times, then turned to Helga. She handed me the second ring.  
  
"Bjorn Ragnarsson. With this ring, I promise to love you, and honor you, and do whatever I can to support you in whatever battles you may face." I put the ring on his finger and took in the image of our hands for a moment before I faced up again. "Then I now pronounce you husband and wife." We fell into each other's arms, and finally, I got to kiss him. My husband. Bjorn swept me off my feet, only his arms prevented me from falling down. And I wasn't afraid he would let me fall.


	90. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-07-802

On the way back to the camp, we took off the rings and put them on a silver chain, so we could wear them but they wouldn't be visible. Floki and Helga had come with us, and we all felt like celebrating. Before we could find drinks, however, Rollo had found us and had asked us to come to Ragnar's tent, even me. We told Helga and Floki to start without us, we'd find them later. What could that bastard do to me now? I had married his son, fuck that prophecy.   
  
Ragnar looked even paler than the day before and moved only little in his seat. It made me wonder what could be important enough to warrant him sitting up at all. He should be in bed, and he knew it.  
  
"No doubt you're wondering what all that ruckus was yesterday. I had an interesting talk with Ragnhild, which got a bit loud. I just wanted to take the time to apologize. It appears my words have caused more damage than I thought." Now I really didn't know what to think. I reached out to find Bjorn's hand under the table and found his fingers reaching out to me. This whole marital bliss was starting to fade fast.   
  
"Father, we -" Ragnar put up a hand, then continued.   
  
"I told Bjorn about something the Seer had told me. He spoke of three prophecies, and one seemed to apply to Bjorn: 'The Princess shall crown the Bear.' That was not all he said, and I hope to prove my intentions true by telling you the whole story. Only the dead will conquer Paris, and the Princess shall crown the Bear... which does not bode well for you, Ragnar Lothbrok.'" I didn't hear what he said next.   
  
Of course there had been a third part, the Seer only spoke none, one, or three prophecies. I had so easily assumed it would be beneficial to Ragnar to break us up, I didn't even think it was possible for him to do me and Bjorn a kindness that could hurt himself. Once again, my mistrusting nature had gotten me into trouble. Had my marriage to Bjorn been official enough to count? I didn't dare look at anyone.   
  
A sudden wave of nausea came up. I tried to keep it down, but I felt it rising through my chest. I knew my mind was reeling, but I hadn't expected my body to respond like this. I tried to get up, but I fell over and started puking on the trampled grass. A hand started rubbing my back. Without looking up, I knew it was Bjorn.   
  
"I really don't get how women can be so over-emotional," I heard Rollo say. I wanted to jump at his throat, but another wave of nausea forced itself to the surface.   
  
"She's not over-emotional, she's with child!" Lagertha's words took a moment to sink in. How could she know? I hadn't bled since we got here, but I had missed a moon before when I was stressed. With the attack on Paris, I just assumed... I had held out a faint glimmer of hope, but with everything that had been going on...  
  
The tent fell silent. Another wave pushed to the surface, bringing tears to my eyes. My lip started to shake. I knew everyone was looking at me now, and the only sound was me throwing up. I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand and looked up. Bjorn's face showed surprise, worry, and happiness.   
  
"Is it true? Are you..."  
  
"I thought it was stress... I didn't know for sure. I didn't want to say anything until I was. I know how badly you want it to be true." He hugged me in a tight embrace. I still wasn't quite convinced Lagertha was right, but now the words were said aloud I could only hug Bjorn back. I was glad we shared in this happiness together, but in the back of my mind, I knew there was so much more to discuss other than baby names. Ragnar would suffer from our marriage if the prophecy told of what I thought it did.   
  
"Happy as I am to hear the news... I thought Ragnhild still doubted the gods. Why would she take a prophecy of the Seer to heart?" Rollo's question had made everyone in the tent look at me. I got up and sat down again. It was a good question. I didn't know the answer myself. I was still trying to come to terms with what Lagertha had told me.   
  
Her face had grown worried, beyond what I had expected. She was certain, though. I put a hand to my belly, suddenly realizing I hadn't just put on some weight because of the stress. And all the alcohol I had drunk lately... Bjorn brought me back to reality as he put a hand on mine.   
  
"I tend to believe what I can see and hear for myself, but I know that when the Seer was right so often before, I'd be a fool not to heed his words. Only time will tell if the Seer turns out to be right." One way or another, the Seer had proved his words to be true before. It wasn't always that clear, but in his own way, the Seer had always told the truth. After so many premonitions he had foretold, who was I to doubt his gift and deny what I had seen and heard? And as for the gods...   
  
Even if there were any gods, how would they ever prove themselves to me? No matter what would happen before my eyes, I'd always remain skeptical. I'd always denounce the gods in my mind, no matter what they brought before my eyes. I'd always find a way to account for their miracles, I'd always know what would lie at the source of their power. Just like these people would always find a reason for the gods to be responsible for everything that happened.   
  
Ragnar and Rollo tried to ask me a thousand questions at the same time, making my head spin.   
  
"Enough!" Lagertha shouted. She stared down Ragnar and Rollo, who sat down without a word. I didn't dare look into her eyes. "Just what the fuck is going on here? Did you two really go through with this because of what Ragnar said? How could you be so rash! And you, king Ragnar! Did you really think trying to make them break up would help them? Have you forgotten what it's like to love like they do? Are you really that thick?"  
  
"What do you mean? What they have done?" Ragnar asked.   
  
"They got married today." Bjorn grabbed hold of my hand even tighter. I glanced up and saw the surprised faces of Ragnar and Rollo, as well as the fury on Lagertha's.   
  
"That's not possible," Ragnar said, turning even paler.   
  
"It is possible. In case you forgot, Ragnhild has her own customs and rituals. I married them according to her laws."  
  
"You did what?" Ragnar half shouted. "You would play along with this folly without talking to me first?"  
  
"I thought it was because Ragnhild is with child. She mentioned how she wanted to be married before thinking of children a while back. It would take too long for that to happen as she wants, so it made sense. I thought she knew she was pregnant."  
  
"Well, doesn't everyone just love to go around everybody's back," Ragnar spat.   
  
"Why would this matter? It's not like Ragnhild is a princess. It has nothing to do with the prophecy, right?" Rollo asked. I felt my face turn red.   
  
"We think she might be," Bjorn said in a calm and clear voice. "Not a literal princess, but close enough to fit the prophecy." Ragnar rolled his eyes and sat back, not knowing what to make of it. I was starting to lose sight of the picture as well.  
  
"If that's the case, you must have made a mistake. I spoke to the Seer as well, and he told me I would be present at the ceremony," Rollo told Ragnar. I didn't know what to think. Was the marriage not valid? Or was it just a coincidence, had I just wanted to make the prophecy about myself?   
  
"Any more trips to the Seer anyone would like to share about, while we're at it?" Ragnar said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Lagertha cut him off and turned to me.   
  
"Why would you think the prophecy applies to you?" I started shifting in my seat uncomfortably, not knowing if I should speak. Bjorn's expression was one of certainty, of dedication, of protection.   
  
"Ragnhild chose a new name when she came here," Bjorn said to the others. "Where she comes from, last names don't change. It's a family name that lives on through generations. Her last name means king. So, in a way, she's a king's daughter."  
  
"And a king in her own right then, which explains why she can crown Bjorn," Lagertha said exasperated, rubbing her temples. I hadn't thought of it like that yet. "I can see how you might have come to that conclusion." I felt like a dumb teenager being lectured for getting caught smoking. There were so many possibilities for this prophecy to come true, it was foolish to think the first thing I thought of was the right answer. Bjorn's enthusiasm hadn't helped me think straight, either.  
  
"What am I to make of this?" Ragnar said. "If your marriage is legal, it will not bode well for me."  
  
"Come now brother, I wasn't present at the ceremony. How can it be real?" Was Rollo actually taking our side? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Do you honestly believe that sham marriage was sanctioned by the gods? It's just a joke to the gods. You have nothing to fear."  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Rollo," Lagertha said. "There were rings and vows. Ragnhild being the vessel of Freyja..." Everything just had to come back to that.   
  
"She doesn't even believe that herself. How can she be a vessel of Freyja and not believe in the gods?"  
  
"Have you not received her blessings, uncle? Is your daughter not proof of it? Have you not heard her talk of wondrous things to see them crumble the walls of Paris? She is not a mere human as we are," Bjorn spat. I kept feeling increasingly uncomfortable. I didn't feel like I had a right to speak at this family meeting.  
  
"Then what is she?" Rollo sneered. Everyone looked at me again.   
  
"She is a mystery," Ragnar mused. His eyes were intently staring at me. "There's no telling what she'll bring to us, but whatever it is, I hope she'll bring about great things. The wanderer called her death incarnate when he first met her. He seems convinced of her destructive power, certain she will change our fates." He had been furious before, but now he was somehow okay with this? What was going on in his mind?  
  
"Only the gods can change our fate," Rollo growled. "Are you really suggesting she may be a goddess?" I swallowed at that. Being a vessel was one thing, but this... At least he didn't seem to have talked to Athelstan about what he had known. If Ragnar was still thinking in that direction, time travel was way off from where his thought process was concerned.  
  
"No, not a goddess... But a wanderer who can travel without going places, who lives in a land we can't hope to reach in a thousand years... Whatever she is, the gods seem to have put her on our path for a reason." Ragnar had come dangerously close to the truth. The only thing he needed to complete the puzzle was realizing the wanderer had meant I traveled through time. Were there even stories about that he might have heard? Could he fathom such an idea, and think it true? Even though I had known about it, it had taken me some time to accept it as the truth.   
  
"You're awfully quiet," Rollo told me. "Do you not have an answer to our questions?"  
  
"No. Not that you would understand or believe. I was hoping the wanderer could help me, but now he's been captured I don't think I'll ever find out. I'm as curious as you all are."  
  
"What do you mean, we wouldn't understand? Do you think we're too dumb?"  
  
"That's not what I said," I snapped. "All things might come to light someday, but until then, I will keep them to myself. It is as much to protect you as it is to protect me."  
  
"You sound like the Seer," Rollo sulked. "He is just as vague and confusing. I need a drink." He got up and left the tent. I wished I could join him, but the risk being I was pregnant...   
  
"What do we do now?" Bjorn asked.   
  
"I don't know," his mother sighed. "I guess that's up to the king to decide." Ragnar wore a tired expression, even though he tried to shake it off.  
  
"I'd like to speak to Ragnhild if that's alright. I have some questions for her." Bjorn turned to look at me. I nodded, knowing Ragnar probably wanted to talk about the same things that were troubling me. After kissing me on the cheek Bjorn left, followed by Lagertha. When we were alone, Ragnar got up and walked around a bit.   
  
"You called me a coward for not wanting to tell you of the prophecy in your face. Are you not the same for fearing what will come of it when I know the truth?"  
  
"It's not the truth I fear, but the many questions that will follow. I might have been able to answer those questions once, but too much has happened. I might tell you the truth, or I may lie to you, and both options are sure to cause panic and confusion. Do you hope to tease it out of me by asking me the same thing in many different ways? Just ask me what you really want to know." Ragnar's face held a smirk.   
  
"Alright. I will. Why have you come to us?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Where did you come from?"  
  
"According to me, you, or the wanderer?"  
  
"According to you," he said as if that had been obvious.  
  
"Another world, much like this one in some regards, and completely different in others. That is the best answer I can give you."  
  
"Do you mean us harm?"  
  
"I have made a new life for myself. I wouldn't want to go back, even if I could. If you're worried about my allegiance, I have told you before. Have I not proven it time and time again?" Ragnar put his hands on the table and stared at me with his intense look again.  
  
"Do you know who killed Athelstan?" I took a deep breath and gave a calculated answer.   
  
"Do you?"  
  
"You are getting good at playing the game, but do not overestimate yourself."  
  
"Maybe I'm just letting you think that."  
  
"Your mistake is not knowing when to play, and when to realize you are among friends."  
  
"Is that an offer to teach me?"  
  
"Is that an offer to learn from me?"  
  
"What if it was?"  
  
"I'd tell you I have very little to teach you. Keep the mistrust for those you know that cannot be trusted and keep those you love close. Either tell them everything or nothing. Don't use them as your pawns, for they will not thank you." I let his words sink in. He was right about the mistrust that was so easy to build inside me, as I had noticed myself.   
  
"Will you allow Bjorn and I to get married when we get back?"   
  
"Is that what you want? Have you not fulfill ed the prophecy yet?"  
  
"Not everyone might be as understanding as to why we did what we did. And I want to have a proper ceremony, with all of our loved ones there to celebrate with us."  
  
"You want to know if I will allow you to make sure the prophecy will become true?"  
  
"I want to know if we'll have your blessing. I want to know if you think I'll make Bjorn happy, and will be able to support him in whatever way he needs." Ragnar smiled at that. By throwing his advice into his face, I both signaled I knew when to play the game just fine, as well as that I trusted him. He himself had made the mistakes he had just warned me about. He had no choice but to give his blessing now.   
  
"If you think he can do the same for you, how could I refuse? If you love each other enough to discard my warnings and dare to face the fates together, I can't think of anything that will deter the two of you."  
  
"You did warn me not to let prophecies get in the way... But still, knowing what you know now..."  
  
"Some things are fated to happen. Why would I try and stop it? What use will it be? I know you well enough to know you'd never do something to hurt me or my family. Everything else that might come across our paths... Only the gods know what might happen. Now, since you got married today, I think we should have a little celebration. Shall we?" Ragnar held out his arm and I took it. I could already hear Floki loudly singing, no doubt having found some happiness at the bottom of his horn. 


	91. The Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Floki POV
> 
> 17-07-802

Hoping to find something different this time, I tapped my finger against her forehead. She was used to it by now, my strange habits.   
  
This wasn't a joke, though. I never joked about the gods, or boats. There was a thick mist surrounding Ragnhild, hiding her from my Sight. Others I could see, but her... It was like she was hidden away somehow. I couldn't understand why. That woman was a mystery, and I couldn't figure her out. I'd never come across anyone that difficult to See. I had told Helga about it once, but she had just smiled.  
  
"She's from another country, and she doesn't believe in our gods yet. You had trouble understanding Athelstan as well, I'm sure it's nothing." But that was exactly the problem. The priest had been shrouded as well, and his shrouds had become less at one point. With her...  
  
She wasn't a danger to us, that much I had understood. Why else would she wear the markings of Freyja? She was just... Disconnected. Yes, that was is. There were no ties between her and this world, she had to build them herself. But somehow, they hadn't stuck yet. She remained shrouded, clouded.  
  
"I'll miss you," she said as she threw her arms around me. I wasn't fond of hugs, but she somehow had gotten me to allow her such a display of affection. The first time I had been so surprised I hadn't known how to react other than take her in my arms.  
  
Now, almost like an instinct, I put a hand on the back of her head. She smelled clean, like flowers. For some reason, she bathed at least once every two days, a strange habit that cost a lot of effort to keep up. Still, I didn't complain. She could keep her strange habits, as long as they didn't interfere with ours. To hear Bjorn say it, she always washed her legs first, then went up from there. At least that was strange behavior I could understand.  
  
"We will meet again soon. You'll see. No frowny faces today, yours is a happy departure." My hand slid to her belly, where a new generation was growing. Such a miracle... The child would bring more troubles, there was sure to be a huge fight between her and Bjorn about how to raise it, or the sacrifices required to ensure its safety.   
  
Ragnhild let go of me and moved on to the last one to say goodbye to. Her husband, if you could call it that. To me, their little ceremony had seemed strange, bare, and an ill omen for the years to come. It didn't matter to the gods, and it wouldn't matter to anyone else. It had counted for them, somehow, and that was enough.   
  
Everyone could see how madly in love they were. Their moon of honey wasn't officially begun, but they acted like it. Their love was sickeningly sweet.   
  
Even now, the despair Ragnhild felt over being parted from Bjorn for a few weeks was infuriatingly adorable. I felt Helga grab hold of my hand, her fingers entwining in mine.   
  
"They look so happy to be wed," she whispered. "Perhaps..." I slowly turned around to face her.   
  
"Helga?"   
  
"Floki?"   
  
"Are you..." I loved this woman the same way Bjorn loved his foreign fiancée. Helga, to me, was a breath of fresh spring air come down from the mountains. She could lift my worries, accept all of my many flaws, and she...   
  
I looked up at the lovebirds. They were kissing, rather intensely.   
  
"Is that what you want?"   
  
"I want a lot of things from this life," she whispered back, taking my hand in hers. I hummed a little as she put my hand on her stomach. "I want it all." A child. She wanted me to give her a baby.   
  
"I can't," I snapped. "Not that, not now. Not ever. Why not be happy with each other? Am I not enough for you to handle? Do I not make you happy?"   
  
"You do, and you know that. But I can't deny what I want. My body is telling me to hurry." Helga wasn't that old...   
  
"You see all your friends with children and feel left out?" She pursed her lips a bit. "Do you truly feel like an outsider, with Ragnhild as your friend?"   
  
"She's not an outsider anymore, no more than us." I'd hurt her feelings, somehow. I could sense it, but I didn't know what I did wrong.   
  
"Helga, my sweet. I cannot father a child. What if it turns out to be like me?"   
  
"Then I will love it even more. You are not broken, and we will raise it right. Our child will love the gods as we do, and then the gods will love it in return." Her words meant nothing compared to the look in her eyes. She understood my fears and told me all would be well. She trusted in the gods, and in me. I wouldn't let her down. Not this time.   
  
"Perhaps," I admitted begrudgingly. Helga threw her arms around me, happy I'd said yes. How could I deny her anything?   
  
The way she pressed her head against my chest always made me love her more. Without Helga, I never would have come out of my dark spell. She had shown me the gods were still with me, and for that, I would owe her the rest of my life like I owed it to her many times over. Giving her a child would be the least I could do.   
  
"What are you two so happy about?" I saw Ragnhild had left already, the ship well off in the distance. Bjorn had spoken the words softly, but his eyes were hard.   
  
"We will try for a child of our own," Helga said with a radiant smile. Bjorn immediately responded with a smile of his own, but it did not reach his eyes. It wasn't because he already missed his love. No, this... It was anger. Directed at me.   
  
Ragnhild wouldn't have betrayed me. She would have broken down with guilt if she had. Bjorn knew I had killed Athelstan, but if it hadn't come from her...   
  
Ragnar, he knew as well. She'd warned me about it, but I had cast it aside. No one had seen me, and I was out of town according to many. But it seemed I had underestimated them all. I had been sure the gods were with me after the sacrifice, but the way those trebuchets had been used against us in the end... The gods had forced Horik to mess with my children, and then we had lost.   
  
"Let's get a drink, I've got a sudden thirst for mead." Helga tried to pull me along, but dark clouds were gathering in my mind.   
  
"You go. I need to think." Bjorn got dragged off instead, leaving me at the bank of the river. I started walking, in no particular direction.   
  
Ragnhild... Bjorn had once performed a ritual, with her. The Bygul one, ancient and powerful. It had its faults, hard to get it right, but from what she had told me...   
  
She had felt heat, and an overwhelming presence, then heard sounds that weren't there. What was I to make of that? She was clearly connected to the gods, but then again... Disconnected as well. Yes, that must have been it. Someone was keeping her from her destiny, no wonder she often reminded me of a chick in search of her mother hen.   
  
But then, that strange dream she told me of. The one with the people coming up to her, those she couldn't hear or feel either. She could only see them...   
  
Something strange was going on. Everything about her was strange, even more so because of her connection to the gods. It was like even they didn't know what to make of her.   
  
"Builder!" The wanderer... What did he want with me? He wore a heavy frown as he drew near.   
  
"Wanderer," I returned as he stood before me. I found joy in being able to look down on him. "What makes you disturb my thoughts?"   
  
"You know of the girl." My eyes narrowed. Everyone who spoke of 'the girl' was referring to Ragnhild, even though she was a woman since she came here. It had seemed fittingly before, but now she was with child it had grown to be an insult.   
  
"What of it?" It wasn't exactly a secret we had been building the trebuchets together, nor did I like talking of her to strangers.   
  
"What do you see, when you look at her?" I snarled and continued walking. He was not one I would share my thoughts with. "Floki. You misunderstand. What do you See?" With a sharp breath, I turned around on my heel, eager to tell this white-haired traveler to sod off. Instead, I found myself lost for words. The man looked at me with such a fierce determination...   
  
"I See uncertainty. She's hidden, kept from Sight."   
  
"Hidden?"   
  
"Aye, hidden. She is lost, and needs to find her way." The wanderer leaned back at my words. He either didn't agree, or he was afraid of my words. Perhaps both.   
  
"She will destroy the world on her way to her destiny."   
  
"No." It came out harsher than I'd thought. A surge of anger rose. "Ragnhild is not a danger. She will protect us, just as she is protected." The words came out without me realizing. This was good, the gods were speaking to me again. I hadn't heard them in a while.   
  
"Your gods are not infallible. They have made a mistake, letting her live. She will be the death of us all." He was not afraid, he was terrified. Why else had he avoided her, despite his promise to talk to her about her destiny? Ragnhild had not been too worried about it with the good news, but I hadn't forgotten. This man was hiding from her, had even tried to escape the camp after Rollo had claimed him back from the Franks.   
  
"Oh, on the contrary. She will show us which way to go. She will guide our way." Defending Ragnhild like this... Good things would come if I stayed close to her. That much was clear. Her fate was entwined with ours, and she held the fate of the Viking in her hands. When such a driveling foreigner was scared of her like this, I didn't need a brain to realize we would rise up as a people, and crush the world beneath our boots. We would conquer, with her help. We would be victorious.   
  
"You seem so certain. What makes you defend her like that, without knowing just what she might do?" I got so close to the man he had to strain to look up at me.   
  
"Loyalty. Respect. Faith. These are things you might not be familiar with, but they are like food and drink to us. I know her, and I know what she wants more than anything in this world. She's only a danger to herself, and a minor one at that." He meant to touch my face, but I took a step back. He would not get to See me. I grabbed hold of his wrist, drawing him down to his knees.   
  
"Why are you hurting me?"   
  
"Because you obviously do not understand what I am saying. Stay away from her, from us. Don't ever return to our shores, once we part."   
  
"Floki!" Just what I needed. I snarled as I let go of the wanderer, seeing Lagertha come up to us. "Ragnar requests your presence in his tent." I made to move, but her hand on my chest held me back. "The wanderer," she clarified. "We need to have a little talk ourselves." More women demanding things from me today. I wasn't in a giving mood anymore.   
  
"Say what you will," I spat, ready to fight her. Unflinching she nodded towards the trees behind me. I followed a little reluctantly.   
  
"Can I count on you?" The question caught me off-guard. I had expected a fight.   
  
"For what?"   
  
"To keep Ragnar from making the worst mistake of his life. He cannot be converted, you have to see that as well as I do." I scowled as I thought back to his announcement. Had Horik been there alive and well, he would have killed Ragnar on the spot. Turning Christian, on his deathbed no less.   
  
"Ragnar asked me to make him a caesket, or whatever. A last boat, tiny compared to what he should have a right to. He wants me to help him reach their Heaven." I spat on the forest floor, anger surging through me.   
  
"He can't go on with this ritual tomorrow. There's too much at stake. His place in Valhalla!" Lagertha was desperate, like I had rarely seen her before. A hand on her shoulder calmed her down a bit.   
  
"It won't come to that. Odin will never allow it."   
  
"You don't understand," she spat. "It was prophesied Bjorn and Ragnhild be married, and that it would not bode well for Ragnar. They married because of a prophecy, angering the gods. They tricked me!" Angry as she was, she kept seated, fuming without betraying a hint of her anger in her body language.   
  
"Nonsense," I simply said. "Ragnhild is here to change our fate for the better. The things she knows... It's like she's from another realm. Who else could know so much advanced warfare? Everything she knows is better than what we have. Except for those pesky morals of hers, those are a luxury we cannot afford."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Haven't you been paying attention?" She thought on my words, then lost her own connection to the world. Her eyes went blank, all she could do was sit and stare. So much for our conversation. I meant to get up, but Lagertha's hand caught my elbow.  
  
"That thing, what the Seer told her..."   
  
"He told her many things. The gods have brought her here, that much is clear. They have big plans for her, and for us."   
  
"She... She's free to decide where she will go."   
  
"Aye, and she's from a land we can't hope to reach in a thousand years. Why does this bother you so? What makes you this..." I didn't want to say it out loud, knowing Helga was counting on me to keep my balls attached for a little while longer. Lagertha was scared. Terrified.   
  
Her eyes looked up at mine. There was... I had to see for myself. I put a finger to her forehead, but she too was shrouded in mist now. A different kind from Ragnhild, this was the mist of confusion, of trying to come to terms with something.   
  
"Lagertha?" She cleared her throat, coming back to her senses.   
  
"If Ragnar dies before we make it back, Bjorn will need us. He will want to return to Kattegat as soon as he can, but we'll need to go to Denmark first." To consolidate his power. Ragnhild would call it murder of innocent bystanders. Horik's family would have to die, and fast.   
  
"There's one for us to kill here already," I said with a grin. "I feel like killing some vermin."   
  
"He's gone. I sent out search parties already, but no one can find him."   
  
"What? How can that be?"   
  
"He hasn't left the camp since Horik died, I'm sure of it." My eyes wandered back to the boats, where Ragnhild had just gotten on a ship. "No, you can't be serious..." Lagertha watched the remaining ships with an intense look, the one that held an edge of fear and disbelief.   
  
"Rats always find a way. If Erlendur is with her on that boat, she'll figure it out soon enough. She's mistrusting enough to make the gods grow wary." The captain had been paid so well, he would defend her against a stowaway. He knew how much we valued her life, and what we would pay to make sure she would come back home safely.   
  
"She'll recognize him, you mean." I let out a deep sigh.   
  
"And when would they have met? When she was building those trebuchets with me? Or during the meetings she stayed out of because of that wanderer?"   
  
"Then his name..." I shook my head. It was wishful thinking, soothing but treacherous.   
  
"Bjorn would know if he ever mentioned it. But if he thinks she might be in danger, in her condition..." I didn't have to finish that thought. Lagertha let out an angry grunt, kicking up dirt with her boot.   
  
"That woman is dangerous!"   
  
"That woman is your daughter-in-law, per your own design. She carries your grandchild. You don't know her like I do. Talk to her, about shiny happy things. You'll see. She's smart, and cunning, and fierce. You saw for yourself how far she's willing to go to keep your son safe. What destruction she can cause our enemies."   
  
"If she lives through the journey... Bjorn will not be able to lead Kattegat if he's mourning her. And now she's with child, it will hurt him double. I have to protect him." Whatever had confused Lagertha before, it made her return to her basic instincts. This was why women would never be as fierce on the field of battle, there were too many things distracting them.   
  
"He has a shield of his own, he can protect himself. You worry for his heart, now that it's so close to the surface."   
  
"We don't show it until the axe reveals it," she hissed. She tried to stare me down, but I was so much taller she might as well have kicked me in the shins. She wasn't the strong leader she had become over the years.   
  
"Aye, we don't... But they do. And you have to admit, it makes for one Helheim of a story."   
  
"You're starting to sound like her." She turned away, her eyes finding the ships again.   
  
"You're starting to sound like a mother worried over her babe. Bjorn is a man, and though he may be young, he has matured. You see it too, you're just angry about them being so vulnerable when they are together. You think it weakness, but let me put your mind at ease. It's strengthening them each and every day. They're open with each other like the ocean between here and home."   
  
"How can that be? Bjorn's Viking, not... Whatever she is. She still hasn't told us."   
  
"Aye, he's Viking. Like she is, I'm afraid to admit. How could she not be, if she holds our destiny in her hands?"   
  
"She holds my son's in her hands."   
  
"Then how grateful you must be to the gods, to know Bjorn will be at the center of it all. Just imagine what fame and fortune await him." Lagertha knew she wouldn't get anything but affirmative retorts from me. She needed to deal with this in her own way, make her own decisions and conclusions. It didn't matter, not really. She would never tear Bjorn away from the love of his life, no matter how desperate she became.   
  
"Will she make him happy?" Her eyes sought mine for an answer she already knew.   
  
"Is he not happy already? Do they not have every reason to believe all of their dreams will come true?" I caught her glancing at the boats again. I felt the same unease as her. Ragnhild might just surprise us once again, all for the worse. "Did Bjorn tell you about the Bygul ritual he did with her?" Her eyes flashed at me.   
  
"What happened? Did he tell you?"   
  
"She did. They didn't even get started, to have her tell it. I thought on her words, a lot."   
  
"What do you think?"   
  
"She and Bjorn share a powerful connection. She was able to read his intentions and only panicked when her head took over. You know what I'm talking about, that thing she does where everything needs to make sense."   
  
"I've seen it happen, yes. How someone that open can be that analytical..."   
  
"Oh, but there's more." Lagertha leaned in a bit as my grin grew wider. "There is one connection she has that is even stronger than that between her and your son." Lagertha ate it all up, I'd only rarely seen her this eager to learn more. Usually, she hid it better.   
  
"Floki."   
  
"Ragnhild has the strongest connection to the gods I have ever come across." Somehow she seemed disappointed.   
  
"Is this about that Sight you supposedly have?"   
  
"Do you not want to hear the rest? Why must you be so skeptical of the gods at times like these? You remind me of her when you do." Yes, she was uncertain about Ragnhild, for some reason. Otherwise, she wouldn't have taken it to be criticism.   
  
"She's the Vessel of Freyja, of course she had a strong connection to the gods," Lagertha said.   
  
"Then why is she disconnected from them, I wonder."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"When I See her, she is always shrouded. Like she's hidden away, for some reason. Disconnected, despite her connection."   
  
"If you meant to put me at ease, you are doing a terrible job at it. I only hear how she will cause more trouble for us, for Bjorn. Now that she is with child they will only love each other more."   
  
"She will. What of it? You were married to Ragnar, once. You know how trouble always seems to chase after him." Lagertha got up and left, heading towards the boats. She would no doubt ask around to see if anyone had seen Erlendur. She held a firm pace, as if she were holding back from breaking out in a run. Perhaps there was a little cause for worry when it came to Ragnhild Freyjasdottir.


	92. Change The Formality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erlendur POV  
> 17-07-802

Lothbrok had gone soft. Instead of forcing the issue of leadership and fight it out like a man, he had chosen his boat builder to guide us into battle. Father knew how to manipulate the peasant well enough, but still, the plan had failed. Ragnar was not worthy of being King of the Danes, that honor should have gone to me. I was the heir, I was the strong one. Father had promised I would succeed him. Instead, I had been forced to watch Father die as Ragnar cut his throat as if he were some common criminal. The Sword was taken from me, and thereby I was stripped of my title. I was no longer the prince of the Danes.  
  
Father’s plan had failed ever since he had come up with it. The biggest failure had been to have Kalf come early and try to figure out how the power balance of Kattegat looked like. From what I’d heard, Kalf had gone against Father, and it had to do something with Kattegat’s Vessel. I regretted not having been there, it would have been a great way to get to know Ragnar and his son before we landed in Paris. Father had been afraid, though. For some reason, he didn’t want me near them before it was absolutely necessary.  
  
Almost equally as great a mistake was Father’s trust in Jorgenson, to do anything at all. He was even more unfit to rule than Ari had been. Jorgenson was cruel, not harsh. Lagertha’s rise to power might have surprised Father, but I had seen it coming. The woman had been married to Ragnar for years, of course she wouldn’t take Jorgenson’s abuse. She had bided her time and then struck when Father hadn’t expected it.  
  
I had to do the same, for now. For about a week I had hidden in the camp, aided by those still loyal to me and my father. Ragnar had been too injured to go looking for me, but his ex-wife had a tenacious ferocity whenever she made a round through the camp to make sure I wasn’t hiding somewhere inside. She had even considered that I might be posing as a slave for some reason, but it was easy to evade her when I could move freely at night.  
  
As for his son, Bjorn was even worse than his father when it came to being soft. He wasn’t born to rule like I was. Most of his life he had been a farmer, something his parents were proud of, somehow. I couldn’t understand it. He would never rule as well as I could, nor would he ever be the man I was. And still, through some twist of fate, he now held my title. That alone was reason enough for me to hate him, but I knew his weakness. Anyone who thought to watch him for an hour would know.  
  
The mere mention of his woman was enough to put him on edge, and I had taken great joy in provoking him since I had found out. Bjorn was too young to be involved with the delicacies of planning a battle, and his lover would be his downfall. His love for her would corrupt him as she did their kingdom.  
  
Father had once respected Ragnar, but ever since that girl had come to Kattegat, things had changed. Ragnar turned soft, his son had been born deformed, and his heir was unfit to rule his own house. And still, she had managed to raze the walls of Paris. It was because of her that Father had died at Ragnar's hands. She had convinced Ari to run away. It was clear who held the real power in that filthy Norse village. A part of me respected her for being able to corrupt their kingdom from the inside out, without anyone noticing. Well, apart from me, of course.  
  
Even now, I was on the run because of her. There were plenty still that aided me, and they had even arranged passage for me on this wretched ship. I would at least be closer to home and be able to get my mother and siblings to safety. Ragnar would come for them eventually. As King, I had to protect them, Sword of Kings or not.  
  
Dressed in rags but for a warm cloak, I watched the ship fill up. Most of them were Danes, to my relief. By the time we were home, they would hate the Lothbroks as much as I did. They would help defend the throne from a foreign would-be conqueror.  
  
"How much longer?" I asked the captain. The longer we were here, the more nervous I became. Lagertha still had men looking out for me. Being out in the open in broad daylight was dangerous enough, but on a ship that they could easily board, there was nowhere for me to run.  
  
"Just one last passenger, the girl there. Got paid handsomely to drop her off in Kattegat, first." He nodded towards the banks. I only saw her back, but as she pulled back from an intense kiss, I saw she'd been kissing Bjorn. He dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach, next.  
  
She was sent home because she was with child. Bjorn meant to protect her, and I knew why. She wasn’t a shieldmaiden, she didn’t know how to defend herself. He meant to keep her safe, but instead… Bjorn only had eyes for her as she came aboard. I turned away to keep them from noticing me. We just had to get out of camp before she would realize I was here, too. If any of them recognized me before the ship was off, I would be caught. I had to avoid her attention until we were beyond the first bend, out of sight from the camp. Then no one would know that I had taken her until it was already too late.  
  
As soon as she recognized me, I could give the signal for the men to tie her up. She would make great collateral to keep my family safe. With her in my care, the Lothbroks wouldn't even think of attacking Roskilde. They could keep the damn sword, or maybe I could trade it for her life. They could have her, the wanderer had warned Father to steer clear from her. I would not ignore his advice as Ragnar had.  
  
I couldn't believe my luck. She kept her eyes on the shore until it was out of sight, and only then she looked around to find a spot. Her eyes landed on me.  
  
As she drew near, I sized her up. I hadn’t seen her up close before, she was always around one from Ragnar's trusted circle. Blond hair that reached halfway down to her waist, bright blue eyes, pretty face. She was small, but her curves proved she was a woman. Nothing hinted at her being nervous or cunning.  
  
"Mind if I sit here?" Her eyes were kind, and... Oblivious. She didn't recognize me. At all.  
  
"Not at all," I said, still a bit wary. As she put down her things I exchanged a few glances with the men on the other side. Valtor and Eirik were ready to act, but if I could keep this pleasant for a bit longer, that would be good for all of us. I signaled for them to keep seated.  
  
"Hi, I'm Ragnhild." She held out her hand as if to shake it. Just how oblivious was she? Were the gods finally smiling down on me?  
  
I lowered my hood, and still, she didn't respond. There was just that pleasant smile, and trust radiating off her. As I took her hand she smiled.  
  
"Erlendur," I said.  
  
"What does it mean? Your name?" She let go of my hand and folded her legs beneath her. This was just too good to be true.  
  
"It means foreigner, my mother wished for me to see the world."  
  
"That's a lovely sentiment. I'm a foreigner myself, so I know how beautiful it can be to go to new places." So innocent... No wonder Bjorn had been so damn protective of her, she needed him to survive. This... I'd have my fun with her. Ironside’s lover and the child she carried were mine. "I should warn you, though, I'm pregnant so you'll have to endure my morning sickness during the journey."  
  
This girl... She was so completely clueless, it was almost endearing. And she somehow already had it in her mind that she would spend the whole journey next to me, for some reason. I'd heard this was her first raid, and if she had come here with Bjorn, they must've been glued together during the trip here.  
  
"That's okay," I said with a smile. "Just aim for the other side." I'd be more than happy to hold her hair back if that meant she wouldn't suspect a thing. If I played my cards right, I might just convince her to come along to Roskilde of her own volition. Bjorn had been a fool to let her go like this. I would be happy to teach him just how big of a mistake it had been.  
  
I spent the first day observing her, watching her take in the scenery as if it was some sort of wonderful miracle it was still there. It took some effort to remind myself she had caused all of my trouble.  
  
Torvi had mentioned her, a few times. She liked the girl because she was so honest and sharp. I couldn't see the sharpness, but I supposed her innocence led her to say what was on her mind. How had she ever survived for so long? How could Bjorn ever fall in love with a girl like her?  
  
That night I sneaked over to the other side, certain Ragnhild was asleep as she was snoring softly. I kicked Eirik's ankle to wake him up.  
  
"My prince," he said as he rubbed his face.  
  
"King," I corrected. "The girl's completely unaware of what she's gotten herself into. I want to see if I can get her to talk, if she figures us out we’ll be able to overpower her anyway."  
  
"Then what do you want us to do?" Eirik looked down at Valtor, who was listening intently.  
  
"Let me see how far I can push her. If she can tell me about Kattegat's defenses, we might be able to take care of the Lothbroks once and for all."  
  
"She is smarter than she looks," Valtor said in a slow voice. I hated his drawl, but his skill with the axe made up for it tenfold. "Are you sure she is not playing you, instead?"  
  
"I've got three weeks to figure it out. Just make sure she's comfortable but let me do the talking. I'll have to come up with some elaborate lies, I can't have those exposed through careless talk."  
  
"What do you even hope to achieve? It's about more than Kattegat, that much I can see." Valtor should know better than to question me. I was no longer his student in the ways of the sword.  
  
"Revenge, of course. She's the reason I am now king."  
  
"Don't burn yourself on her," he advised. "She took out your brother for you, but she also paved the way for your father to get himself killed."  
  
"Those damn machines of her did that," I spat. Fed up with their advice I got up and returned to Ragnhild. She was still sound asleep, leaning against the side of the ship. She would wake up with stiff muscles like that, how had she ever...  
  
I almost had to gag. On the way over she must have crawled up to her lover every night. Just the mere thought of having Torvi lie that close on a ship this small gave me shivers. She was pretty enough, but to be that intimate all the time... Women should know their place.  
  
Still, I had to admit that Ragnhild stirred something inside of me. Something about her caught Bjorn's eye, and I had to smile as I thought how it would be to have a girl as innocent as her in my bed. All the things I could tell her... She'd suck my cock each morning, just as a start. I'd be able to convince her to let me sleep with other women when her blood was on her, and she would be none the wiser.  
  
Over the first week on the boat, I was careful to watch her. Ragnhild interacted with the others with the same kindness she held for me. She knew stories that made most of the ship fall silent as she spoke, regaling us with tales of brave men on adventures and even a funny one about how North Umbria had come to fear Ragnar. She was so blissfully unaware of what was to be her destiny that I almost grew to pity her.  
  
I told her a few lesser known stories about the gods, and she ate it up. She loved discussing them into great length, allowing me more glimpses into who she was and what she wanted. After that first week, she started to sing, as well.  
  
We all knew the rumors. She sang for Bjorn, for her lover, about love. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to hear her mumble words on a melody. Bjorn was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"No one sings of love like that," Eirik complained that night. "Just because she's the vessel of Freyja doesn't give her permission to sing like that in front of strangers. What's next, we find out she touches herself?"  
  
"I think it's even worse," I said with a grin. "She's completely oblivious about love." Valtor smirked and gave me a condescending look.  
  
"She's pregnant," he said before I could ask him just what he meant. "How can she be innocent? I warned you, she will burn you if you're not careful. One of the men went to her for advice on how to approach a woman on a dare and came back a changed man. It was meant as a joke, but she took his problem so seriously, he spent a day recovering from her words."  
  
"How can that be," I scoffed. The girl had shown me some energy when we got into an argument about the crossbow I had brought back with me, but otherwise, she was as docile as ever. "She might be Freyja's vessel, but she's hardly more than a girl."  
  
"I'm afraid your father's opinion of her has clouded your judgment. That woman has a reputation amongst the men in Kattegat. They often hear her and Ragnar's heir fucking, but neither of them speaks on what they do. I heard them myself, the day before we left." Valtor kept silent to build up the tension, as if his slow speech wasn't making me want him to speed things up, already.  
  
"I heard, too," Eirik said, eager to share his experience. "She was begging him to fuck her. I had to strain to hear, but I'm sure of it." Begging? Bjorn got her to beg for his cock?  
  
I looked over my shoulder, not knowing how that sweet, soft girl would look when she was desperate to get fucked. Her eyes would be wide, I imagined, and she would cling to me. With her nails just a bit too long like they were now, she'd...  
  
No wonder Bjorn had faint scratches over his back and chest. They were never truly deep, but he had laughed at any comment on them. Ragnhild had caused them, and the way she took care of her nails... She liked it. She wanted him to make her beg.  
  
"Well, isn't that interesting..." I wouldn’t mind seeing that for myself, once.  
  
"Careful, Erlendur," Valtor said. "I know that look. As I said, she is far from innocent. You know how Freyja treats those who displease her, do not think that vessel won't do the same." I shook my head before I fully figured it out.  
  
"I'll take your word that she's not as innocent as I thought, but the songs... They're not in any language I heard before. It's something from her home, at least in this she doesn't know what she's doing. Why else would Ironside be so protective of her? He paid handsomely to make sure she gets home first because he's terrified of her getting into trouble over something like this. She doesn't know." Valtor's eyes narrowed, but then he nodded. He agreed with me.  
  
"What now? Can you use this information?" Eirik was too eager to know more. I should get back to her, anyway, if she caught me over at this side of the ship she might just become a bit more careful.  
  
"I'll think of something. I think it might be time to get a bit more personal with her."  
  
"Erlendur," Valtor said in a warning tone.  
  
"The only reason I would want to fuck her is to have Ironside walk in on us," I hissed. "I know what's at stake."  
  
Filled with anger I made my way back. Valtor should know better than to presume to know me. I knew how to use this situation to my advantage.  
  
She was still fast asleep when I lay down next to her. I checked her hand to be sure, seeing her nails were just a bit too long, but well taken care of. Ragnhild let out a soft moan and slid her hand up to my chest. I had to double-check, but she was still asleep. She must have thought I was her lover.  
  
As I relaxed and took a deep breath, I felt her fingers slide over my shirt. It was nice, definitely something I could get used to. She moved her head a bit closer, certain I would keep her safe.  
  
Ragnhild... So innocent, so pure... And so dangerous at the same time. I could see how Bjorn would want to be her lover, and why he would feel the need to keep her safe. I smirked at the clouds above as I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her even closer. Here I was, holding his woman in my arms while she carried his child. If he knew, he would go berserk. Even a rumor would snap him, and she wouldn't be able to deny it. Oh, the fun I would have...  
  
She'd woken me in her hurry to get away from me in the morning, apologizing profusely as she tried to calm down. I just smiled, waving it off as her missing her lover.  
  
"I do miss him," she admitted, looking down to the deck. "Again, I'm so sorry."  
  
"You don't have to apologize, I understand." She wasn't nauseous this morning, but still, she barely ate to break her fast. After some encouragement, she took a few more bites, but I could see it was only so she would be rid of me.  
  
It bothered me to see her this sad, I supposed I was a little annoyed to not make any progress yet. It had been a good call to start off slow, but now we were in the second week, I needed to speed up a bit. I was about to say something when she started murmuring again.  
  
Looking out at sea, she sang it so softly I barely heard it. It hardly sounded like a language, but after a few seconds she slumped down and wrapped her arms around herself, though her voice grew more clear. I could barely hear the separate sounds, but the men noticed she was doing it again.  
  
I kept my eyes on the rest of the boat and stared down anyone wanting to make a comment on it. Valtor and Eirik made sure to pass on the message as well, this was to be ignored until I said otherwise. I waited for her to finish, then gave her a moment to take a deep breath.  
  
"What is that song you sang?" I asked. "It seems like it's another language... But I'm not sure." She gave me a fake smile, making me wonder if I hadn’t talked too soon, but then she spoke.  
  
"It's the language of my homeland. Sometimes when I miss it, I sing that song to remind me where I came from. But in this case, it's just a song that reminds me of Bjorn."  
  
"It sounds really sad," I offered. I wanted to say more, but she seemed glad to be able to talk about it at all. I needed to remember that.  
  
"It is. It's about hiding in the ocean, and love gone wrong. About never having to be jealous, and how nice life would be if you can just run away and leave everything behind." She was truly oblivious. She had no idea what love songs were meant to be. Had she known, she would’ve made up something on the spot. No matter how much she missed her loser of a lover, no sane woman would admit to that, ever.  
  
"Why would you sing of things that are so sad?"  
  
"Sometimes feeling sad is better than not feeling anything at all." Father had told me she was Bjorn’s weakness, and only now I understood how right he was about that. There was something precious about her innocence, instilling a need to protect her from the world’s harm. Oh, the damned fool… He would rue the day he put her on this ship.  
  
"I was taught feelings are useless," I said with an off-handed gesture, "but the feeling I get when you sing… It makes me feel sad but in a good way. Does such a thing exist?" A grand smile came to her face, promising she’d show me just how her songs all sounded.  
  
"It's one of the best feelings there is. If you never feel sad, how could you ever truly know what happiness is?" That made no sense at all. "Feelings are the best thing ever. They are the most important thing in the world to me. Imagine doing battle and never feeling bloodlust, or not wanting to protect those near to you. Feelings make that happen. They connect you to the world, to those you love."  
  
"I never thought of it like that," I lied. "How can a song move you to tears? I only know of songs that tell about brave deeds and gods. Can you show me?" She would. Something inside of her was desperate for attention, for someone to give her what she craved. It was like she was begging me to listen to her sing another one of her songs.  
  
"There's a special one I sang to Bjorn when he was unconscious after the first attack. I'm sure you'll like it." I doubted it. Her voice was passable, but in no way beautiful. But as I saw just what passion she sang with, something started to stir again. Her song was barely worth the name, it sounded like a soft prayer. And yet, there were so many emotions coursing through her as she sang, I could see it on her face. Whatever she sang about, her love for Ironside shone through, and it irked me.  
  
"I don't even know what the song is about, but I feel so sad and happy at the same time," I said when she opened her eyes.  
  
"Good. That's what the song is about." She gave a rough translation of the song, telling of how she only wanted Bjorn to be happy, wherever he was. Why would she sing such a sad song for the man she loved? Was she afraid of losing him? If she had any doubts about him, that was something I could exploit.  
  
"How can someone feel all that at the same time?" She laughed at my feigned ignorance, her mood was improving the more she sang. She loved teaching me about her feelings, and thereby how she saw the world.  
  
"Songs hold the key to our hearts," she said with a soft smile. "If anything, they tell us of love and love lost, of being sad and happy, of conflict, and they can give great comfort. I know you Viking are not fond of strong feelings other than love and hate, but there is so much more to feel. I couldn't name or count all the feelings I have felt. They're worth more to me than all the gold and silver that will come from the raid on Paris. They make me who I am." Ragnhild reminded me of a puppy before they were taught how to hunt and kill.  
  
My sisters always doted on them for those first few weeks, thinking them sweet, and vulnerable. Ari had explained to me that it awakened their instincts to become a mother, as they had the desire to take care of something weaker than them. But Ragnhild stirred other feelings within me. I felt the urge to keep her safe and protect her from harm. She was so fragile when she sang, but then again so sure of herself when she told me about their meaning.  
  
"How can you say that? Don't you know how rich we'll be when they return?" Playing dumb would make her want to tell me even more, I figured, and I was right. If she knew just what kind of information she was giving me, she would be calling out to her Ironside for protection. I could swallow her whole if I wanted to, but having her think me harmless would make things so much more interesting...  
  
"There is more to life than becoming rich. I'd rather be poor with feeling, than rich without. Imagine having all the gold in the world, and not being able to feel happy about it. If you can't enjoy it, why bother getting it?" I let out a sigh at her complete and utter innocence. She was full of contradictions that only made sense when I saw them in front of me, shaped as her. How could she even be real?  
  
She wasn’t innocent, though. She was dangerous, she could burn me. Like she had done my brother and Father. Ragnhild had caused more death than any man back in Paris, she was more lethal than Lothbrok ever could be. He wasn’t soft to trust her like this, he was clever. If she was willing to make those kinds of weapons for him, she must have been loyal to him, and it was only strengthened by her love for his son.  
  
"The rumors are true," I sighed as I caught her looking. "You have much wisdom on things we Viking don't think about. Could you sing me another song? One about feeling happy?" I smiled as she sang again, looking me in the eye with the joy of a child as she went through the strange sounds and melody.  
  
"I don't get it, that still sounds sad to me." She looked a bit annoyed, but then straightened her face.  
  
"Oh, everyone's a critic. I've sung plenty, why don't you sing a song for once?" I was happy to, eager to show the men at the oars I wasn’t turning soft myself. I could sing better than her, and I felt like showing off a little. Luckily the men knew better than to join in and destroy this semblance of privacy we had with just the two of us. With her back turned to the others, it only made it more likely for her to believe we were truly alone.  
  
"That's not a song," she said with a smirk, "that's a call to arms. You're really bad at this." I had expected at least some form of a compliment. At least she wasn’t afraid to get into a bit of banter, every now and then. I could afford to show a little cheek myself.  
  
"Well then, teach me. What are the words to the song about the ocean?" She hadn’t expected me to ask that. Neither had I…  
  
"But there are so much better songs I could teach you. Why that one?"  
  
"Because it might make you feel less lonely if someone knew a few of your words." She blinked a few times, frowned, looked down at her hands, then sat up with a smile.  
  
"That’s really sweet of you to say. It would be my honor." I grew a bit reluctant as I remembered just what the words were, but I couldn’t back out now. I’d have to make sure the men knew this was just to win her trust, or this would haunt me for the rest of my life.  
  
"Why don’t we start on the sounds," I said with a smile. "Those sounded hard enough." She smiled at me, in a way that made me feel warm. I knew why Bjorn loved her. To have someone like her beside you, and smile at you like that, like you were the most important thing in her world… Our lives were filled with plenty of hardships. She could break the constant tension with a smile, and still be able to supoort you during the hard times. Everything about her told me she would be able to make me happy.  
  
We spent most of the day working on the sounds, and they were even harder than I thought. There were plenty of sounds that sounded completely the same, but to her, they were as different as night and day. I was tired as the moon hung high in the sky, but even though I just wanted to sleep, I knew I had to stay awake long enough to make it to Valtor and Eirik to tell them what to expect in the morning.  
  
"You’re falling for her," Valtor said before I even managed to crouch down. "I told you, she will burn you."  
  
"I’m just very convincing," I snapped. "Mind your own business, I need her to trust me and that’s going well. I just came by to tell you that I’ll be forced to learn one of her songs tomorrow. She’s teaching me her language."  
  
"It sounded like you had to puke," Eirik said. A look silenced him.  
  
"I know what I’m doing. I don’t have to remind you what’s at stake here. If I can get her to come to Roskilde with us, it’ll be that much harder for Lothbrok to keep his claim on my kingdom. She’s a pawn, nothing more."  
  
"Does your heart know that?" Valtor wasn’t as easily silenced. "I know you, Erlendur. Ever since you started talking to her, you’ve been growing closer. I’ve never seen you that angry over Torvi, or even your mother."  
  
"If I could stab you and throw you overboard without her noticing, I would." I went back to Ragnhild, who had curled up underneath her white cloak. With the hood pulled over her head, she almost looked like a bunny. As I sat down, I felt the urge to look at her face, but I felt the others staring at me. I turned my back to her and lay down on my side, angry at what Valtor had said. He might have been right.  
  
Come morning she was eager to continue, but I was glad to be called upon to take a turn rowing. It was beneath me, but I could use some time to think.  
  
Even though she was behind me, I kept wanting to see what she was doing. I had to hold back on my rowing to keep from moving out of time with the others, I was so angry at myself that I couldn't get her off my mind. It only grew worse when I heard her muttering a melody again.  
  
I had to keep my focus. There was a plan to work out. Depending on how it all went at the end of the week, we would either go to Kattegat to have her tell just how badly she wanted to go to Roskilde for a bit, or we would go to Roskilde straight away. She wouldn't find out until we were there, and I would be waiting for her to turn against me.  
  
I was sure she would struggle against being held captive, but it wouldn't do her any good. Having Torvi near might settle her a bit, I would need to make sure they would see each other the day we got back. And then, the waiting would start. Ragnar would either come to Roskilde before heading home, or he would resupply first and come after me and my family then.  
  
Either way, Bjorn would come with his father. He would grow desperate when he heard, and he would make mistakes. Ironside had told her he would defy the gods for her, and she believed him. And the way she spoke of him, and of the gods, she knew perfectly well what that meant, and that he meant it.  
  
She would hate me. It hurt to know that so certainly. I didn't want her to hate me, it made me feel like I would become a troll in her eyes. It was like I would intentionally hurt a child. As I stole a glance back, I saw she was lying back, watching up at the sky to see the clouds. She loved pointing out the shapes in them, seeing more than anyone else I knew. How could I ever keep her away from the clouds, or the sun? I didn’t want to keep her in a cell, but if she chose to fight me, I would have no other option.  
  
A darker side of me thought of how she would be vulnerable. I wondered how she would fight me if I came close, and how deep her nails could go. If I did it right, she would be begging me, as well... I would see her fire then, and never see this beautiful soft side again. Just thinking of it made me feel despicable. Having her surrender herself of her own volition would make it so much better.  
  
I shook my head and caught up with the tempo again. Valtor shot me a look when he noticed. Some old goat was droning on about the gods, but I couldn't even try and listen. Ragnhild was taking over my brain, and Valtor saw. He got up and put a hand on Eirik's shoulder, then stopped beside me. He kept his eyes aimed at her when he sank down.  
  
"What does she know of me?" He meant to talk to her. He could ruin everything, what if she found out? She would hate me for lying. Ragnhild Freyjasdottir would curse my name as I was forced to have her tied up.  
  
"Stay out of this," I hissed.  
  
"I will talk to her. It's up to you if I'll do any damage. You can't get up halfway your turn rowing without raising suspicion." Valtor had waited for this opening. His experience as an advisor to my father had helped him pick the right time to strike. I couldn't do anything.  
  
"She knows you're a Dane. I told her I didn't know any of you beyond a name and a shared round of drinks the night before we left." Valtor let out a disappointed sigh. Normally he kept those for Eirik, it was an annoyingly fatherly gesture. He'd been a fool to take the boy in at his age, but a promise sealed in blood to a life-long friend wasn't forgotten or erased.  
  
"She's had you under her seidr since the first day," he whispered as he got up. I snarled as he left, pulling hard on my oar. I heard him make his way over and could hear him talk to her.  
  
"Excuse me, might I have a word? You're Ragnhild, aren't you? The Vessel?" I hadn't even dared broach the subject with her.  
  
"I am," I heard her say. "Is there anything I can help you with?"  
  
"I was just hoping to talk, actually. You helped a friend of mine back at the camp, I believe. His name is Sigurd, redhead. Scars on the left side of his face."  
  
"I'll admit that I have spoken to him, but I'm not in the habit of speaking on my advice to others. I can only help others when they know I won't betray their trust."  
  
"That's good to hear because I have some advice of my own to ask. If that's okay, of course." She thought for a moment. I wanted to see what she thought, but I couldn't risk turning my head around. Just what was Valtor playing at?  
  
"I'm not sure if this is a proper setting. We're easily overheard, I tend to give advice where no one can hear."  
  
"That's okay, the person it concerns isn't here. None of the men here knows him." If he was doing what I thought he was doing, I'd stab him anyway.  
  
"If you feel comfortable, then by all means. What bothers you?"  
  
"I have a friend, who has fallen in love with a woman. Alas, she is happily married to another man. What can I say to him, to keep him from causing harm? He's a temperamental spirit." He was using her to get to me. She would be directing her words to me, without even knowing it.  
  
Valtor was a fool. Even if I had these feelings for her, I knew how to handle them. I wouldn't let her blind me to what was important. No matter what happened I would return to Roskilde and keep my family safe. She would be there, too, but I would bring her by force if need be.  
  
"Hmm... It's hard, to deal with unrequited love. Do they live close to each other?"  
  
"He's around her for some time yet, but they will have to part ways eventually."  
  
"Then how likely do you think it that he might try something desperate before they part?"  
  
"More than likely." I wasn't desperate.  
  
"I take it you've tried to talk to him?"  
  
"More than once, yes. He is infatuated and spends as much time with her as he can. I've never seen him this loving, towards anyone. He hides it well, but I can see. I've known him all my life." Ragnhild let out a sigh.  
  
"To be honest, I'm not sure what else you could do. I'm not familiar with the details, but perhaps it's best to have him tell her." What? Tell her how I feel? She would never go for me, not while she carried Bjorn's child, or I was still married to Torvi.  
  
I knew it had been a bad idea when Father suggested the match. Even then his judgment had failed him. Marrying because of a child was dumb, and now I was stuck in a marriage that kept me away from Ragnhild.  
  
"Excuse me?" Valtor was at least as surprised as I was.  
  
"Well, you said so yourself. You know it will end in trouble if nothing happens. Whatever feelings he holds for her, they will only grow. If he tells her, he will hear from her that it'll never happen. Only she can tell him the truth in a way that he is willing to hear." I forgot to breathe for a second. She didn't want me. "Or, who knows. Maybe she's waiting for him to speak up. They could be happy together. I don't know what..." She could love me. That song, the one that told me she was uncertain of her future with Bjorn, it was true. Something inside of her was afraid of losing him, and if she would come to Roskilde with us... She could love me.  
  
"... Said that absence makes the heart grow fonder," Valtor said. I'd missed part of their talk.  
  
"And likewise I have heard the saying out of sight, out of mind. There's so much wisdom floating around, who's to say which one is right? But from what you told me, he couldn't possibly heal by himself."  
  
"Why do you speak of healing?"  
  
"Because love like you just described hurts. It leaves a mark on the spirit, no matter what will happen. You can bury it all you want, shield it, or ignore it, but even decades later you can still feel the pain, or the joy."  
  
"I don't understand. Why would you even encourage him to go after her when there's a chance at such pain?" Valtor's plan was starting to backfire. Ragnhild drove him into a corner, and she didn't even know it.  
  
"Because losing love is better than never having loved at all. It changes a man, all for the better. I think you should be more worried about yourself if you are unaware of the positive changes inside of your friend." She was perfectly aware. She felt that his intentions weren't pure, somehow, but she hadn't made the connection that Valtor was speaking of me and her. "When was the last time you were in love yourself? Did having to take in Eirik come with a promise to not love a woman yourself? Have you promised the gods to stave them off to punish yourself?"  
  
"Just what do you think you know about me?" She'd been right, about all of it. This was her fire, and I was glad not to be its target. "What makes you say these things?"  
  
"Honestly? Your furs. You haven't lived with a woman for years, and the boy looks like he hasn't been with you for more than a few years maybe. He's taken over some traits, but he still talks in a different accent. Five years, maybe six? Your furs haven't been repaired properly for a while, it's just patchwork. Even a servant would've done a better job, but you live in a town where you could've gotten one easily. You're not poor, just a bit of a slob, with a good memory for the bad things in life." The men around me exchanged glances as they heard. It wasn't spoken as an insult, and that only made it worse. Ragnhild had told him the truth, and we all knew it. Eirik hadn't heard the words, but as it slowly trickled in he turned red.  
  
"I can see why you would rather advise others in private," Valtor said in his slow drawl. His voice was thick with sarcasm.  
  
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to. I'm not judging you, I only meant to point out that one solution is not worse than the other, just because you don't like it." I couldn't count the times he had told me the same thing. "Something needs to happen, that much we agree on. But interfering for the sake of your own peace of mind is a mistake. They are both adults, and very much capable of dealing with their feelings and problems themselves. And even if they are not, this is something they can learn from." I heard Valtor get up, then saw him walk past to the other side of the ship.  
  
I felt much better when I was done with my shift. Ragnhild looked nauseous, but I didn't mind. Just sitting beside her was enjoyable. She clutched my knee when she had to puke, making me feel needed. Imagining her fingers slowly drifting up my thigh was enough to block out the sounds she made as he vomited. I held back her hair and sighed, feeling the blissful hurt of knowing I would lose my shot at her love, soon.  
  
Only after noon she felt well enough to continue teaching me her language. She still looked a bit pale, despite the way the sun had kissed her skin, but as she got into teaching me again the blood returned to her face. A few hours later, she felt confident in teaching me the first verse.  
  
"So, what did I just sing?" She had neglected to translate the words yet, for some reason. She looked a bit nervous about my question, but then answered truthfully.  
  
"There's so goddamn much to say, and so much more to lie about. A lot of dredge to lay bare, even if the digging hurts so much. I'm a jerk but I'm learning." Her definition of a love song was just as strange as she was. Maybe she was right about that thing where people could feel more emotions than two or three at the same time.  
  
"Well, thank you," I said drily.  
  
"It makes sense if you learn the whole song, trust me." We spent almost a day learning just a verse and the chorus, but now we were getting somewhere, she was showing that beautiful smile more and more. When we woke again, I only needed two hours to learn the rest and memorize the song. I looked out over the water as I sang it in full for the first time, thinking of how this song about losing her lover and wanting to hide from him must have related to Bjorn. Something must have been off between the two of them, why else would she sing such sad songs for him?  
  
When the song finished, I turned back to Ragnhild. She looked crushed.  
  
"What's wrong? Was it that bad?" I should’ve been looking at her while I sang, not out at sea. I knew the song made her feel all kinds of things, and I’d just forgotten about it. They were important to her, and letting her share them with me was the way to her heart.  
  
"No, it's just..." She wiped the tears from her cheek, but it was useless. They kept flowing. And still, she wasn’t embarrassed over them. She didn’t try and hide them, at all. Even with half the boat staring at her, she felt confident. "I never thought I'd hear my language again like this. I'm sad and happy at the same time. Thank you, Erlendur." I cupped her face and wiped away a few tears, feeling her trust in me radiate from her skin as I touched her.  
  
"If that's all it takes to make you happy, I'm glad to do it." My words only made her crying worse. I took her in my arms and felt her head on my chest. She cared about me, that much was clear. "You can teach me some more if you'd like. It'll be like our secret language."  
  
"I'd like that," she answered with a smile despite her tears. She spent the rest of the day teaching me basic conversational skills. I was quick to repeat what she said now that I knew the sounds, but forming correct sentences was still difficult. I could understand how she still had a lilt in her speech when she talked. The sounds were so different, I must have sounded like an idiot to her. Only when the sun began to set, I switched to Norse.  
  
"Is it true you're the vessel of Freyja?" I asked. "I heard rumors, but you don't seem to carry yourself with an attitude."  
  
"Yes, I am. I don't know how or why, but the gods seem to have great plans for me. And I don't really see how that would make me have an attitude, to be honest. I don't feel like it makes me special. Did you hear rumors I'm supposed to be a bitch?"  
  
"No, I just figured you'd have brought it up yourself by now. I grew tired of waiting, and I do consider myself to be a patient man."  
  
"I seem to attract those, somehow. But no, I don't like bringing it up myself." I needed more of an opening to get her to think of Bjorn as less than he was to her.  
  
"Why not? I imagine it's one of the reasons you are engaged to Bjorn Ragnarsson," I said. She frowned for a split second, as if she doubted if she had heard me correctly.  
  
"It's not. We plan to get married because we love each other for who we are, even without all the titles and heritage."  
  
"Yet I see no ring on your finger," I said with a sly smile.  
  
"We have yet to become officially engaged, but that won't be long." I let out a longing sigh.  
  
"I wish I could marry for love." I leaned back on the deck, watching the sail pulling us closer to home. It wouldn’t be long now until she would know what lay in store for her. I had to follow her advice and tell her how I felt. She would need time to process it and make a decision to come with me, to love me.  
  
"Why can't you? Surely if you want to marry someone, you are free to do so?"  
  
"There is a woman I have taken a liking to, but it seems she is no longer available."  
  
"Who is it?" This went beyond innocence. She was blind to these things when it concerned herself, Bjorn wasn’t her weakness, at all. It was her. She was unaware of just how much she was worth to Kattegat, or Ironside… Even to what she meant to me. Just this morning I had seen how sharp and smart she was, and yet…  
  
This changed everything. Just having her doubt Bjorn would be enough to make her think of how it would be to love me. I could actually pull this off, I could get her to love me. It wasn't just a dream anymore.  
  
"It's you," I said as I sat up. "You fascinate me. The stories you know, the songs you sing, the way you talk of those you love... I could only dream of getting to know that kind of love for myself." Ragnhild froze. Her eyes flitted all over my face, trying to find something, as if she hoped that it was all a joke. The rest of her was still as stone, her face turning pale again. "Do my words scare you? Have you no sense of how good of a woman you are? If so, that only makes you more precious."  
  
"I... I feel flattered, but I'm not sure how to react. I'm with Bjorn, I'm carrying his child..." Her eyes glazed over. She was starting to doubt him, lost in thought and emotions. Still, I had to know for sure.  
  
"Does that mean you would consider me if that was not so?" She looked at me, unsure of what I had just asked of her. I started to doubt how well this was going, but I had to hold firm now. Backing out now would be an even bigger mistake.  
  
"I love him, I know that beyond the shadow of a doubt. What would or wouldn't happen if I didn't have him, I can't say." It wasn’t a no. I could always have Ironside killed and take his place. Fighting him at home would give me a great advantage.  
  
"So if he died, I'd have a chance? I wouldn't mind raising his child as my own." Ragnhild took a deep breath, steadying herself.  
  
"It's bad luck to speak of Bjorn like that. You're being terribly forward. I don't like where this is going." It was a clear signal for me to back off. I leaned back again, watching the clouds as I kept my eyes distinctly away from her for a minute or so. Only then I dared to steal a glance.  
  
Ragnhild was staring out at sea, frowning a bit. She was thinking about what I had just said. Confusion raged over her face, making me smirk. She let out a tired sigh, then glanced up at the sun. It hung low in the sky. As a breath of wind passed over the ship, she shivered.  
  
I got up immediately and draped my cloak over her shoulders. In her condition, she shouldn’t be cold, that much I knew.  
  
"Thank you," she said. As she pulled the cloak tight, despite her sitting on her own, I sensed an opening.  
  
"Is this one of those moments where you feel happy and sad at the same time?" I asked.  
  
"No, I just feel confused. I thought of you as a friend, and now that's changed." I had to hide a smile. I wasn’t a fool, I knew it would take time for her to forget about Bjorn. I would leave one of those marks on her spirit and that would be my opening, even if it would take me a year to get there.  
  
"We can still be friends if that's all you want. Why would my words change that?" She took a moment before she responded, lost in thought again. I almost started to worry about my chances, but then she opened her mouth. She bit her lip for a second, then took in a deep breath.  
  
"Because I don't know how to react to what you told me. I'm not used to men telling me those kinds of things." I had caught her completely off-guard. She seemed to shrink away in my cloak, pulling it tight as she avoided my eyes.  
  
"I thought you preferred honesty," I said carefully.  
  
"I do. It's just... You're only making me more confused. Can we stop talking about it?" For all the advice she gave, she wasn’t that good at following it herself.  
  
"If that's what you want." It was best to take my distance for the rest of the night, come morning she would feel better about all of this. I had some thinking of my own to do, and a conversation with Valtor to have.  
  
He was watching me approach. I couldn’t contain a smug grin as I thought back to how Ragnhild had torn into him in the morning.  
  
"You have no reason to look like a brat," he spat. "You told her something you shouldn’t have."  
  
"I told her what she needed to hear." He scoffed, turning his eyes to the sky.  
  
"You’re spending too much time with her. Are you really so far gone that you would cast aside your birthright for her?"  
  
"Never," I said in a low voice. I meant for her to rule by my side, not give up one thing for the other. Both were mine or would be soon enough.  
  
"You’re playing with fire, and you don’t even know you’re burning…"  
  
"You were the one who got hurt today. She was spot on about you. What do you even know of women?"  
  
"I know how they can drive a man to abandon his family. I’m telling you, move your stuff to this side of the ship and be done with it. We need to inform the captain of our decision soon. What do you even hope for? Do you think she will love you after you tear her away from the only life she knows? Are you prepared to go to war over her with Ragnar Lothbrok? Are you willing to face the wrath of his son?"  
  
"His son is easily taken care of," I spat. He did make a good point about Ragnar, though. Bjorn would want his woman back, and his child, but Ragnar… He needed his connection to the gods. He needed the Vessel, and that came with the woman. Just how far would they go to get her back?  
  
"Think of Gunnhild, and your siblings. It’s not just your life that you are betting with." Valtor made too much sense for my liking. At least Eirik knew to keep quiet.  
  
"My mother is perfectly capable of taking care of herself." Valtor shook his head, his shoulders dropped down.  
  
"You’ve already decided. I won’t join you, nor will Eirik."  
  
"I haven’t decided anything yet. I need more time," I insisted.  
  
"Three days, if the weather holds. I won’t tell you to obey me, but I do implore you to listen to me. She will bring nothing but trouble to you. Bring her back to Kattegat, and you’ll lose all you have, just for the mere idea of being with her. Your brother threw it all away for a chance at his dreams." I was nothing like Ari. Valtor had no idea what he was speaking of, or who he was speaking to.  
  
"I know how to seduce a woman. You’ll find out what I decide when the others do." I got up and left, furious at his callous tone. Valtor didn’t know Ragnhild like I did. She would come with me when there was a good enough reason. I could make something up about Torvi being pregnant, I just needed her to want to leave on her own before Ragnar made it back.  
  
I returned to Ragnhild knowing I would be cold during the night. She had fallen asleep in my cloak, still sitting on her own. It was so inviting to lie next to her and pull her close, but I couldn’t have her thinking I was making a move on her, not yet. With my back against hers, I settled in for the night, knowing she would pity me when she woke up in the morning.  
  
The captain woke me up after a fitful night. Ragnhild returned my cloak with a guilty look, reminding me of all that had happened yesterday. I wanted to talk to her, but a storm was brewing, the first we encountered. Perhaps it would give me an extra day to decide. I helped take down the sail, then found Ragnhild clinging to a bucket near the mast.  
  
"That baby of yours doesn’t like storms, either," I said when she finally dared look into my eyes.  
  
"No, this is just me." She heaved, but nothing came out yet. I pulled her hair back for her. It was beautiful, and her wearing it loose like this was a clear sign she was not as tied to Bjorn as she pretended to be. Perhaps she was keeping her eyes open for a better suitor to come along. And with the storm… That was Thor’s work. All were signs that I should give it my all to see what would happen.  
  
I softly sang the song she taught me as she started throwing up. As I rubbed her back, she relaxed a bit. Only when another wave hit both the ship and her stomach did the muscles of her back contract. She was beautiful, in every sense of the word. Her body wasn’t lean, not with her being pregnant now, but I knew that beyond all that she was used to hard labor. She kept busy, taking care of Ragnar’s sons until her own child was born. Shieldmaidens often had this tendency to have small breasts and more muscle than anything else, but she… Her body had a softness, just like her spirit. It wasn’t just her breasts, or her hips, it was more. If I thought to look I could see some faults, but when I took her in whole, it all fitted somehow.  
  
I cursed myself for feeling this strongly about her. She was a marvel to behold, but only when she moved and interacted with others, or me. It was her personality that invited me to give her a second look. No, even worse. Her looks drew me in, then her personality won me over, and then her tenacity to defend what she believed in made me fall in love with her.  
  
"Are you ignoring me?" I asked when the storm had subsided. She was chewing on a piece of sausage, keeping her eyes on the wet deck. Aside from a short acknowledgment as we had been able to get up again, she hadn’t spoken yet.  
  
"No, I'm just feeling sick. I just threw - Oh!" She looked down and put a hand on her belly. If she was having cramps, that could mean she was losing the child.  
  
"What is it? Is something wrong?"  
  
"The baby... I think it just kicked." Had she been pregnant for that long already? Someone must have noticed it earlier if that was the case. She took hold of my hand and put it on her belly. "This can't be... Do you feel it too?" As I felt something move, her eyes lit up. It could’ve been anything, really. I had no idea what I was supposed to feel, but I didn’t dare tell her so. I had no reason to believe she would lie to me about this.  
  
"It must be a boy," I said with a smile. "I've never felt a girl kick like that." I looked down at my hand on her belly, feeling the warmth from her body. It was so intimate, I had to remove my hand to keep from blushing.  
  
"Apparently you don't know women. It could be a girl for all we know," she said as she stroked her thumb over the fabric of her dress. Ragnhild loved the child already, this simple sign of life was enough to have her forget about all of her troubles.  
  
"In any case, that's going to be a strong baby. You must be so happy."  
  
"I am. I'm just surprised to feel it kicking already. I thought I was two moons along, but... I must have been with child for longer than I thought."  
  
"Babies can kick like that when they're four moons in the womb," I offered. That much I had learned from my mother being pregnant all the time.  
  
"Four moons? How do you know that?"  
  
"I have a lot of siblings younger than me. My mother has a talent for getting pregnant." She turned her attention back to her stomach.  
  
"I figured I would be showing by four moons," she sighed. "I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner."  
  
"You’ve been busy. But I don’t think it matters all that much, the child knows when to come out." Ragnhild trusted me enough to relax at my words. She had accepted my explanation yesterday, my confession no longer bothered her. Now I only had to wait for her to return to the subject. It needed to come from her to be genuine.  
  
As the days until the decision passed, I grew nervous. Ragnhild noticed, but she didn’t bring it up, like she didn’t bring up her feelings for me. But through it all, we grew closer. She told me how bad she felt about having built the trebuchets, and thankfully she just wanted me to listen, not give my opinion on it. I told her about life in Roskilde, keeping it vague as I spoke of what I missed there, but I made sure to tell of the great many benefits of living there.  
  
When the day came that I was to make my decision, the captain stealing glances at me all the while, I was torn. I loved her. I had fallen for her and had to do my best to keep it from showing. She didn’t seem surprised at my affectionate gestures, as long as they weren’t more than could be expected from a close friend in public. But did she cut me off there because of her love for Bjorn, or to keep the others on the ship from throwing her judging looks?  
  
The safer option would be to head for Roskilde. I wouldn’t risk losing my family, or my crown. But it would mean I would lose her love, little as it was that she showed me. I would have her, but lose all that I wanted from her. Going towards Kattegat meant I could have her love, but I would lose all I had, just as Valtor had promised. I thought of asking her about it, but it was too risky. I had to decide on my own.  
  
"Will I be turning to the east?" the captain asked at night. I took in a deep breath, weighing what my heart was yelling at me to what my head was saying. I took a deep breath and spoke with a resolute voice.


	93. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04-08-802

I missed Bjorn a little more each day, but it was softened when I thought about the boys. They would be so happy to see me, I could already imagine their arms around me and the smiles on their faces. I imagined Sigurd would come wobbling up to me as well, trying to keep up with his brothers. Aslaug would be clutching onto Ivar, while Siggy held Dagmar in her arms. They would be so happy for me when they heard about my pregnancy.   
  
Especially Siggy had been a pillar of support to me ever since Jorgenson got taken care of. She was always ready to hear me out whenever I'd gotten into a fight with Bjorn, and now she would be more than happy to help me with my pregnancy. And then the news that Bjorn and I were to be engaged...   
  
I had only seen tears in her eyes once, and that was while she gave birth to Dagmar. Otherwise, she never so much as teared up, not even over an onion, but I was sure she would have to blink a few times when she heard.   
  
"What are you so happy about?" Erlendur asked. I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me with a bemused expression. He had kept true to his word of being happy with us just being friends, but I knew he still had feelings for me. He only smiled when he talked to me, for one.   
  
"I was thinking about how nice it would be to see my friends again. Siggy will be so happy for me when she hears the news." My hand drifted to my stomach, wanting the small bump there to be real. At four and a half moons, it had better be.   
  
"Do you imagine she'll be waiting for you by the beach?"   
  
"Definitely. She's tougher than me, but I'm sure she missed me, too. Her daughter must be so big by now. I doubt Rollo will recognize her." Erlendur stared out at sea for a bit. He did that a lot, the last couple of days.   
  
"Do you think I could ever be happy?" His question caught me off guard. As his eyes turned to me, I saw he was sad.   
  
"I don't see why not. Why do you ask?"   
  
"Because I think I'm going to make a mistake, soon." I didn't want to pry in his business, he'd kept out of mine when I had needed him to keep quiet, as well. I waited for him to continue. "That mistake could change my entire life," he said as he looked at me again.   
  
"Well, if you see it coming you might be able to prevent it. It has to do with your home, I take it? There's not much you could do from here, anyway. You still have some time to think about it. It's okay to have doubts." He cast me a rueful smile. Whatever it was about, he wanted to avoid having to deal with it.   
  
"It might cost me my family," he admitted.   
  
"Never give up on the ones you love," I said without skipping a beat. "Always fight for them, the gods can never blame you for giving it your all." Erlendur inched closer and wrapped his arms around me. He took in a deep breath, sounding on the edge of ragged.   
  
"You've given me so much already, and yet you keep on giving. You're too kind for this world, and for me."   
  
"Everyone deserves kindness, Erlendur. You're no exception to the rule." He breathed deep and pulled me closer for a second, then let go.   
  
"If there is anything I can do for you, ever... No matter what might happen, I want you to know that I care about you, deeply." The words were soft, but his eyes gave them ferocity. I could trust him, he would move mountains for me.   
  
"I care for you, too," I said. He took hold of my hand and put it on the side of his face. "I hope we'll meet again, one day. I never would have survived this journey without you." He wanted to respond, but a seagull called out. All eyes darted towards it, then tried to find land.   
  
"There it is!" At the hopeful call, I rose to my feet, eager to pull up Erlendur as well. I'd see the boys again, I'd get to tell them they would be uncles soon.   
  
"Come on! Don't you want to see? It's been nothing but waves for weeks!" As we got close enough for the land to become distinguishable, I realized the trees looked different. The few that were jutting up at the small islets weren't as lush as I would have guessed.   
  
I had no idea how coming home was supposed to be like. I hadn't really paid attention when I came back from Egersund, as I was too strung out from the constant lack of privacy. The captain turned the ship around a bit, leaving us to sail along the coast for a while. He probably needed to find the right entrance to reach Kattegat. It did little to ease my impatience.   
  
"Is something wrong?" Erlendur asked. He inched his hand closer to mine on the railing, until our pinkies touched. I blinked a few times, then looked back up at the trees.   
  
"I'm just eager to get home. I don't recognize it yet."   
  
"You've hardly ever seen it from this angle," he reminded me.   
  
"I know, I'm just... I'm getting a bit anxious." I shifted my weight, feeling some vertebrae in my back cracking. My body was aching for a good bed. "This always happens, I start fretting over what could go wrong. It'll disappear once my feet hit solid ground. I'd better go get my things out, as I understood it I'm the only one to get off." I turned around and started to repack everything.   
  
What if one of the boys had gotten hurt? Sigurd was still so small, I knew Siggy did her best as always, but he had really latched onto me since Ivar had been born. Would he have taken to Siggy now? Part of me was a little jealous at the thought, but I'd have to put him in second place soon, too. Perhaps it was for the best if he would get used to others taking care of him.   
  
I kept fussing over my things, ignoring everything around me. I would be fine, the boys would be fine, I was just worried over nothing as always. This was my trust issues trying to weasel their way back into my thinking, Siggy knew how to hold down the fort. Everything was fine. The boys were fine, I was fine, and Bjorn was probably on his way already. I wouldn't have to miss him for long.   
  
Erlendur sat down next to me as the men shouted all kinds of lewd comments on the women they would fuck, and boasted of the ale they would drink during their short time spent on land. He looked sad again. I could understand why, this was goodbye for us.   
  
"We're almost there," he said. "You checked it five times, your packs are fine." He helped me up and pulled me tight again. I took a deep breath, steadying myself for the sight of Kattegat. I didn't want to interrupt Erlendur's moment, but I couldn't wait to see my home again.   
  
I turned my head to face it, then opened my eyes.   
  
Kattegat was just as I had left it. I could see people gathering on the beach as the tolling of the bells reached the ship as well. Two very distinct shapes were at the front of it all, bringing a smile to my face.   
  
Erlendur let go of me as the ship was almost at the docking. I hurriedly thanked the captain and waved at the crew, then rushed off to get to the boys.   
  
"Ragnhild!" They met me halfway, slinging their arms around me.   
  
"I'm sorry, who are you? I'm looking for Ubbe and Hvitserk. They look like you, but I remember them being just teeny tiny!" Ubbe rolled his eyes, but Hvitserk didn't realize it was just a bad joke.   
  
"It's us! Ragnhild, it's me!"   
  
"Really?" I took in an exaggerated gasp. "You've grown so much! You must have so much to tell me! What have you two been up to?" As we walked down the docking, they told me of their wild adventures. Ubbe had started training with a bow, Hvitserk had caught a bad cold after a long swim, and they were hoping I would tell them about the flying boats again. They must have known the story better than me by now. Happy as I was to have them by my side again, some people were missing, still.   
  
"Where are Aslaug and Siggy? Didn't they hear the bells?" The boys fell silent. I sank down to their level, looking them in the eye. A sense of dread built up so fast I had to keep from shaking the answer out of them. "Did something happen? You know you can always tell me anything."   
  
"Mother has been sick since the wanderer left," Ubbe said, sounding almost as if he felt guilty. "And Siggy... She died. When we went swimming that one time we almost drowned... She saved us." No, that couldn't be. Siggy was so full of life, she had a daughter... I clutched the boys tight, not wanting to know just what they must have gone through. She couldn't be dead, it was impossible.   
  
"What happened? I told you to stay where you could stand, and always go together. What went wrong?" I should never have let them try and practice by themselves.   
  
A hand grabbed my shoulder. The boys moved away a bit from my embrace. They looked wary, for some reason.   
  
"Why is he here?" Ubbe asked. I saw it was Erlendur, looking just as wary as the boys. How did the boys know him? Was there bad history I didn't know of? I wiped away my tears as I looked back to the boys again.   
  
"Do you know him? This is a friend of mine, Erlendur." This was not the time to cry about losing Siggy, she would tear me a new one if she'd see me lose it like this in public.   
  
"Father doesn't like him," Hvitserk whispered in my ear. Erlendur heard, though, and turned back to the boat without a word. Whatever this was about, Erlendur wasn't happy about it.   
  
"Well, I do like him. He has been very kind to me. Don't believe everything you hear from others." They relaxed a bit as Erlendur took his distance. "We spent three weeks on that ship together, he's nice." The boys stared down at the sand for a bit. Just what had happened? I had expected Hvitserk to speak up by now, he'd never been afraid to go against me before.   
  
"You got fat," Ubbe said as he kept his eyes on my stomach.   
  
"That's not very nice to say to a lady. And I'm not fat, I'm with child. There is a niece or nephew growing in my belly." Their eyes lit up at the news, making me feel slightly better. This was a response I had anticipated.   
  
"Really? Bjorn finally did it? Did you have to drink a lot of mead?" I gave Ubbe a pointed look. Ever since he had found out about the 'poking' he'd been asking me how much longer it would be until I was with child.   
  
"A baby!" Hvitserk put his hands on my stomach. "When will it be here? Do I have to wait long?" His bright eyes staring up at me in wonder made me feel like a million bucks.   
  
"Oh, not that long I think. I felt it kicking just a few days back."   
  
"What? But I can't see a bump yet." Ubbe was now giving me a pointed look.   
  
"I think I know a little better than you how this all works, you smart ass. Now, let's get back inside. I want to see how Sigurd and Ivar are doing." I wanted to take them by the hand, but the boys had other thoughts about it.   
  
"We're almost men! We don't need to hold your hand," Ubbe said very dignifiedly. Hvitserk nodded in agreement. They marched beside me as I made my way to the hall, looking very pleased to have me back. I was still reeling from the news Siggy died, but I tried to put on a smile for them all the same.   
  
I didn't know what I expected to find, but it was nothing good. The hall looked dirty, and the firewood seemed mostly gone. The smell that came from the hall was enough to make me feel sick again, I could see the tables had gone sticky and hadn't been cleaned for a while. The servants hadn't done their job for a while. And to top it all off, Aslaug had been drinking heavily already, she was hammered in the middle of the afternoon.   
  
"Ragnhild! I am sooo happy to see you! It's been terrible since Siggy died, I can hardly handle the boys. Would you be a dear and fix supper for them? I'm beat." She hugged me for the shortest moment, then turned towards her bed. I took in a deep breath as I watched her go, then another one.   
  
"See? Mother's feeling ill," Ubbe said. His eyes were asking me if I knew what was wrong.   
  
"Yes, I can see that. How about you help me make dinner? You go get whatever you want, I'll help you cook it." Proud to be given such responsibility, the boys ran off to the food storage. I walked towards the back where Ivar lay abed and Sigurd sat in a corner by himself. Ivar had been recently fed and bathed, but Sigurd smelled bad. I picked him up and held him close, but he didn't seem to recognize me, at all.   
  
"There, there... It's okay. Remember me?" He started to fuss a bit. I found some water and cloth and started to wash him. He was way too thin. "Oh, you poor thing. It's okay, I'll take care of you. I missed you, you little munchkin. Yes, it's okay, I'm back now." I had just given him a change of clothes when Erlendur walked in.   
  
"You seem to have this mothering thing down already." I smiled back at him, but my heart wasn't in it. Sigurd didn't want to be held, for some reason.   
  
"All in a day's work." I put Sigurd down and he started trudging around. I got the feeling that he should be able to walk better than this. Just what had happened here?   
  
"I didn't know what to do with your stuff, so I brought it with. I figured I'd find you here." After seeing the boys I had completely forgotten about my stuff. It could have been on its way to Roskilde by now.   
  
"Thanks, you didn't have to. I'll bring it home when the boys are in bed."   
  
"Should you even be doing so much? You have to think of yourself and the baby. Aren't there any slaves who could do all this?"   
  
"I'll manage," I insisted. "Shouldn't you be helping with the provisions? That Valtor seemed very eager to be off again."   
  
"I heard what happened here, with Siggy. I didn't offer you my help as an empty gesture. If I can help you in any way, I'm happy to stay for a while." Him offering was all the kindness I could take. My head was spinning from all the bad news. "Some people were talking about how happy they were to have you back early, it's not just the boys you'll have to worry about."   
  
He was right. If Aslaug was unable or unwilling to rule, I would have to take care of the entire town. Taking care of the boys was one thing, but this... I would have to act as a ruler, as well. Having someone around that I could trust would prove to be invaluable.   
  
"If that's the case, I'll have to take you up on your offer. Do you have a place to stay? Someplace you can eat?" He flashed me a grand smile.   
  
"I won't accept your hospitality until I've made myself useful." He put my packs down and rose with a renewed vigor. "What do you need me to do?" I let out a sigh, looking around to see what needed to be done. I couldn't have him scrub the hall or the tables.   
  
"For one, I'd like to know where the servants went off to. I saw the barn got rebuilt, that's where they sleep. Would you mind looking for them?" The boys came back, their arms were laden with way too much food for a quiet family dinner.   
  
"Are you boys planning to get as fat as me?" I asked as they put it all down on a table.   
  
"We're just hungry. We didn't eat all day." How bad was Aslaug taking care of her children? Didn't she know she had four of them, not just Ivar?   
  
"Say no more," Erlendur said as he saw the look on my face. "I'll find them." He went off before I could tell him otherwise.   
  
"Why is he here?" Ubbe asked. I went over the vegetables to see what I could make of their assortment.   
  
"He is here because he is a friend of mine. He'll be staying for a bit while I get things back on track. You will treat him as a guest. You don't have to like it, but if you want to be a great leader like your father, you have to get used to doing things you might not like." Ubbe scowled at me but stopped as he saw I was determined about this. I guessed puberty hit early when you were a Viking.   
  
At dinner, I had to admit to the boys I had no idea how the raid was going. Erlendur filled in some blanks, having fought in both attacks. He fell silent as he got to the part where the first attack had gone wrong, though.   
  
"What happened to make the fight turn bad?" Ubbe asked, his eyes flitting from me to Erlendur.   
  
"Well, that's um..." I sucked on my teeth a bit, then took a deep breath. "King Horik made a decision, and it backfired. From what I heard the trebuchets started firing again, and everyone that was fighting got confused. Then the Franks pushed back, and we had to withdraw."   
  
"And then what?" Hvitserk was engrossed in the tale, but Ubbe kept throwing dirty looks at Erlendur, who was not at all at ease.   
  
"I don't think this is the right time to tell them," Erlendur said as he leaned into me.   
  
"No, tell us," Ubbe demanded. "What happened to your father?" I went from surprised, to amazed, to angry, to furious, then I felt offended.   
  
"Ragnar killed him," Erlendur spat, trying to stare down Ubbe as he did. Hvitserk noticed something was up and fell silent, preferring to play with his food as he avoided any eye contact.   
  
"Then you're no longer a prince."   
  
"Ubbe!" He jumped up at my voice. "That is no way to talk to a guest. His father died, and he doesn't need your crude comments to go with it. Show a little respect." He didn't dare go against me, but he did get up, dragging Hvitserk along with him. I let them go, having plenty of confusion of my own to deal with.   
  
I let out a tired sigh and shoved away my plate. I was clamoring for some ale, but I had to contend with water.   
  
"Why did you defend me? I can take care of myself." Anger overtook the confusion.   
  
"Because I don't know what else to do,” I said as I dropped my arms on the table. “I thought it was clear I don't know how to handle this. But that doesn't mean Ubbe gets to judge you based on hearsay."   
  
"You - you're not mad at me?"   
  
"I'm fucking livid. You told me we could be friends, but this is not what friends do. I feel like you lied to me, and humiliated me, in front of my family no less." He forced back his own anger, trying to come up with the right words to respond.   
  
"I knew you'd react like this." He got up and went for the door.   
  
"And how exactly am I reacting, then?" He turned around, looking just as mad as I felt.   
  
"You want me gone. You hate me for what my father did." I got up as well, standing in front of Erlendur. I hated how I had to look up at him, but I did my best to stare him down.   
  
"I'm trying to talk to you, you fucking moron. Don't make me out to be the bad guy here. For the record, I don't give a shit what your father did. Horik deserved to die for what he did, but he didn't do that as your father. Now sit your fucking ass back down, and eat your fucking food, and tell me what the fuck happened with those trebuchets." He looked ready to spit venom.   
  
"You don't talk to me like that. You know who I am."   
  
"A former fucking prince that is too fucking stubborn to have an adult fucking conversation." He snarled, clearly not happy with how I talked down to him.   
  
"You swear a whole fucking lot." He sat back down, however. I followed suit, trying to let go of my anger.   
  
"You've got balls of iron, to try and fool me as you did." I had to suppress my anger, I felt it running through my spine as I shivered.   
  
"I was rather successful until I got ratted out. Did you really not know?"   
  
"I thought you were fifteen." Erlendur scowled at me.   
  
"I'm 24, where would you get that idea?"   
  
"Where I'm from, even boys manage to grow at least some kind of beard. You Viking really are pathetic. How much older is Ari?" He sized me up but didn't seem to find what he was looking for.   
  
"Two years. How old did you think he was?"   
  
"Sixteen, when I saw him last year."   
  
"Yes, well, no one's seen him since last year," he said as he looked at the fire he was facing.   
  
"Do you blame me for it?"   
  
"No. He'd have made a terrible king. And if I did, I'd have killed you by now." He did have plenty of options had he wanted to.   
  
"So, the trebuchets. What did Horik do to my babies?"   
  
"He loaded them with tree trunks and some small rocks and fired them off when he thought it was all moving too slow." I grunted as I put a hand to my face. This was exactly the kind of stupidity I had been worried about.   
  
"Fucking idiot,” I cursed. “Of course that scatters around. Those pebbles would have been lethal at those speeds. Getting hit in the head with a pebble, what a way to die..." Not that Viking bothered much with helmets. I could only shake my head at the stupidity of it all. No wonder Ragnar had been so decisive about killing Horik.   
  
"You knew that would happen?"   
  
"As did Floki, and Ragnar, and Bjorn, and Lagertha... It came up during one of those meetings. Bjorn once asked me, so he could tell the others we should stick to proper rocks."   
  
"But how could you know? It was the first time they were used." I rolled my eyes.   
  
"What happens when I throw a pebble at your head?"   
  
"It err... You hurt me?"   
  
"And what happens when I throw a handful of sand with the same speed and distance?"   
  
"It - it scatters in the wind. It's too light to go where you want it. Which is why Ragnar didn't want to use them after the rocks were all flung." He looked down at his plate, realizing just how foolish it had been to have Horik throw around debris.   
  
"Not to mention it's a terrible idea to throw stuff at your own men, who are fighting to get you rich."   
  
"Well, if he'd known that..."   
  
"He did, he just thought he knew better than me. Horik never even should have tried to work them in the first place. He could've knocked down the bridge or broken a ship. We spent hours on the right angle on them. They weren't his toy to play with. You don't see me running around with a sword, now do you?"   
  
"That's my father you're talking about," he hissed.   
  
"And I'm sure you're proud of him for killing hundreds of his own people by being an impatient cunt. He's always been quick to anger where I'm concerned, you must have noticed he wasn't fond of me.”   
  
"He made a mistake," Erlendur sneered.   
  
"He made a mistake," I agreed, leeching his anger out of him. "And he paid for it. It wasn't your mistake, and it won't do you any good to come to his defense where this is concerned."   
  
"Why are you so relaxed about all of this?" By my own standards, I was ready to murder a bitch.   
  
"Because my father made tons of mistakes, and I won't let anyone judge me because of that. I didn't let Ragnar kill Jarl Borg's son for the same reason." Erlendur's eyes went wide.   
  
"You - you saved my son's life?" Mine went wide as well. If Gunthrum was his son...   
  
"You married Torvi?"   
  
"Yeah. Father wanted me to not have to deal with the same shit as he had with our land. It would never have happened if not for the boy." I started to laugh as I remembered Jarl Borg's words to me. I had no idea what my words and actions could cause, and this was just too ridiculous to believe. "What's so funny?"   
  
"I'm s - I'm sorry, it's just..." I took a few breaths to calm down. "Ever since I found out I'm the vessel, everyone keeps telling me I have to be more mindful of how my actions influence others, and this... Honestly, who could come up with something like that?"   
  
"If you hadn't saved the boy, I'd be free to marry for love," Erlendur pointed out.   
  
"And had I listened to Borg, I'd be the queen of Denmark by now." I drank deep, wishing it were ale, if only a sip.   
  
"What makes you say that?" Erlendur leaned back a bit.   
  
"Jarl Borg advised me to kill your father, then marry you. The remaining son, after Ari left. Maybe carve out an earldom of my own." Now Erlendur laughed, more bitter and dark than I had.   
  
"The gods are cruel indeed, to have let everything happen as they did. At the least your Seer was right, you seem to hold my fate in your hands." This was all just too absurd to put to words.   
  
"Ragnhild? Why are the two of you laughing?" I turned around to see Ubbe looking at us warily as he came walking back.   
  
"Because we're friends. Erlendur will stay for tonight at least."   
  
"Can't I command him to leave? Now that I'm a prince?"   
  
"You could try, but I'm still the woman who is tasked with making sure you behave." Officially I had no power over the boys, but with Aslaug still knocked out cold and the boys not having their arm rings yet, I was as close to power as I ever wanted to be.   
  
"Don't worry, I won't stay here when I'm not wanted." Erlendur pushed back his seat and turned to me.   
  
"Erlendur..." I didn't want him to leave over Ubbe being clumsy.   
  
"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Ragnhild. I'll never forget your kindness." He took my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles.   
  
"You can't sleep in the streets. Spend the night at my house, we'll work something out."   
  
"I've taken up enough of your time, and your attention."   
  
"Erlendur, I insist. If not for me, then for Torvi. I couldn't bear to have her find out I didn't at least try and offer you a roof for the night." He sighed, then slumped down again.   
  
"You're annoyingly persistent," he chided.   
  
"Sigurd's hungry," Ubbe said, drawing my attention away from Erlendur. "It's why I came out here, I thought you said he'd get some food."   
  
"I did," I said as I narrowed my eyes. "Where did Maia go?"   
  
"I haven't seen her all day," Ubbe said. Erlendur's seat was starting to wear down the floor as he got up yet again.   
  
"I'll go see what the problem is. I won't sit around and do nothing in return for your hospitality." He left through the doors, heading for the barn. Ubbe pulled me up and dragged me towards the back.   
  
"Ubbe, how long has this been going on? With the servants not doing as they're told?"   
  
"Ever since Dagmar died. Mother's been sick ever since." Dagmar - Siggy's daughter? Did she die as well? I saw Ivar was lying in bed next to Aslaug, which made all kinds of alarm bells ring in my head. I picked him up and put him in his crib, much to his dismay. A pinky in his mouth shut him up for a bit.   
  
"Then who took care of you?" I whispered, not wanting to wake up Aslaug.   
  
"We got by," he said as he shrugged his shoulders. "I made sure we always had something to eat." My heart went out to the boy. This was in no way right, or forgivable.   
  
"That should never have happened, Ubbe. I'm very proud you did so well, but you shouldn't have had to do any of it, to begin with. I'm very upset with your mother and the servants, but I want you to know I'm proud of you for taking care of your brothers."   
  
"It was better than when mother didn't lay down most of the day. She's not sick, is she?"   
  
"I think she's making herself sick." Ubbe threw his arms around me, almost reaching up to my chest now as he did.   
  
"I'm so glad you're back. I missed you."   
  
"I missed you, too. I can promise you, I won't go on a raid ever again. I like it much better here."   
  
"You're just saying that because you're pregnant. Women always stay home when they have children."   
  
"Would I lie to you, Ubbe? I hated it. The only good thing to come out of that whole raid was that Bjorn and I -" I closed my mouth, but Ubbe was too smart to not notice.   
  
"That you what? Don't tell me it's because you're pregnant, because I know you wouldn't have stopped talking if you did." I sank down to my knees, putting my hands on his shoulders. Before long I would have to get used to looking up to him, as I did with all the men.   
  
"Can you keep a secret?" Ubbe nodded enthusiastically, all of his worries gone. "Not just any secret, this is a big one. Huge, in fact."   
  
"Do you want me to swear an oath?" That might have been too much for the subject.   
  
"I just need you to promise."   
  
"One of those pinkie promises like you do with Hvitserk?" I imagined that would work just fine. "You've never done one of those with me before."   
  
"Because they're so special. We lock our pinkies, like this, and you promise not to tell anyone, and then kiss your thumb." More importantly, they were just something to soothe children with, over small things, making them learn about the importance of keeping a promise.   
  
"What if I break it?"   
  
"You can't. Nothing bad will happen, but you won't ever be able to make one again. So if you try and make one again, everyone will know you broke one before." His eyes went big, making me think it might have been a bit too much, still.   
  
"I promise I won't tell anyone about your secret," he said, then he kissed his thumb. He was giddy with excitement, eager to put his ear to my mouth.   
  
"Bjorn and I decided to get married," I whispered. Ubbe was almost jumping with joy. I hushed him, but he could barely contain himself.   
  
"Already? Mother said I'd get married before you would."   
  
"Well, the baby did speed it up a bit, but I was never planning on waiting that long."   
  
"Ugh, why did you tell me? I want to tell Hvitserk!" I wanted to smile, but I didn't want this out just yet. With all the things I had to do, having such a rumor loose in town would only make my life more difficult.   
  
"I'll know if you do. You won't have to keep it a secret for long, just until Bjorn gets home and we make it official."   
  
"That could take weeks..." He pulled half his face down with his hands. I was both entertained and felt a little guilty seeing him in anguish like this. As I got up to pick up Sigurd, Ubbe was groaning, trying his best to keep it in. I had to chuckle, enjoying the fact he could just be a kid again for a bit. I'd take care of them, all of them.   
  
I decided to put them all to bed early, needing some time to myself to get to grips with all I'd learned today. Just the idea of me telling them a story before bedtime was enough to get them to comply.   
  
Erlendur insisted on walking me home, even carried my stuff, little as it was. I was glad for it, knowing I needed someone to take care of me with Bjorn gone for a few more weeks.   
  
"What did you say to the servants? I've never seen them so diligent in their tasks this late in the evening." He snickered at that. They had promised to have the hall cleaned by sunrise, it would have taken them most of the night. I wouldn't keep them to it, but having them show me this kind of respect was refreshing.   
  
"I reminded them of what they were and what they were for. They are lucky to have you tell them what to do, you're much too kind to be cruel to them. They deserve to be treated as dogs. Sometimes you have to kick them to get them to obey you."   
  
"You know, I was a slave once." Erlendur just kept on walking. "No matter their station, they're still human beings. They don't deserve to be humiliated or abused."   
  
"Didn't you hear those kids? They've been neglected for a while now. There was barely any meat on them. Do you think those slaves didn't know about it? They let this happen. They were just glad to have no one to yell at them for a while. I just... Reminded them of their duties." How like a Viking to say something like that. Still, if they would listen to me now it meant I'd have an easier time at all of it, and just the thought of them neglecting the boys... They knew what they were doing.   
  
"Well, I don't like it. You Viking should really learn some common human decency."   
  
"Aren't you Viking as well?" Erlendur asked.   
  
"Not as much as everyone seems to think. I was raised in a different way. I have adapted, but that doesn't mean I approve of everything that seems so commonplace to you."   
  
"Like helping to raze a city? That's all just a part of common human decency?"   
  
"I still feel bad about that. I don't want to know how many people lost their lives because of those things."   
  
"How did you ever wind up here?" His guess was as good as mine. "You have such a big heart. How does it even fit in your chest? How can you care about so many things and not get torn apart?" I was used to him asking this kind of question.   
  
"You just have to let it in. You can love just as much as me if you only give it a chance." We had arrived at my house. I opened the door and raveled at the prospect of seeing it again. The anticipation proved to be worth more than what it was I was seeing. Dust was piled on everywhere. I put down my stuff in a corner and groaned a bit. Somehow, I'd imagined it a bit less... dirty.   
  
"Don't you dare think of cleaning it," Erlendur said before I could make a move. "We can tell the - servants to go and clean it tomorrow. Let's go back to the hall, there's plenty of room there. I'll suffer the boy prince for a night." Alluring as the notion of my own bed was, Erlendur was right. I meant to grab a change of clothes, but in one of the chests with clean clothes I came across the white dress Siggy had made for me. My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to reach out to it, but before my hand made it over I felt the walls I'd pulled up this afternoon crumble apart.   
  
Siggy had been like a sister, and now she was dead. Her daughter had died as well, and it was all because the boys had gone swimming. If only I'd stayed here, Bjorn had been right all along. I had been selfish to go off like that and leave the boys to their fate.   
  
"Ragnhild?" The worry in Erlendur's voice only made it worse.   
  
"Siggy," I wailed. "She died and it's all my fault. I shouldn't have let the boys go swimming, and then she had to save them and she drowned as she did..." I held onto myself, feeling the hurt rip through my heart.   
  
"That's not your fault, you weren't even there." He didn't understand. Erlendur didn't know what I needed, or what I wanted. He didn't know what I did.   
  
"I killed her..." I pressed my eyes shut, hoping to keep it all in somehow. I didn't want Erlendur to see me this vulnerable, or anyone for that matter. I just wanted Bjorn to hold me. Erlendur pulled me in his arms, holding me tight.   
  
"It's okay. I'm sure there's a lot to feel." How did he...   
  
It didn't matter. I just wanted to be held, to bawl my eyes out, not be judged for the fact I was crying.   
  
Siggy had taken care of me, even though I'd been a slave before. There was so much I wanted to tell her, about Paris, and Bjorn, and the child. And Dagmar, the gift from the gods I'd bestowed on her, her light. Gone as well, just like that, as part of the neglect. Ubbe had barely been able to keep himself and his brothers alive. Aslaug had let it happen, the town had let it happen, and the slaves had let it happen.   
  
Just how bad would it have been if I hadn't returned home sooner? Would Sigurd have died as well? The town turning a blind eye while Aslaug drank herself to death? My sadness was turning into a slow, burning anger. Ragnar would have killed the slaves for allowing this, and his marriage to Aslaug would be over if he heard about this. And for once, I wouldn't be much opposed to him killing someone over not obeying his orders.   
  
"Do you always cry this loudly?" I looked up in surprise. "See? Just the thing. Let's get back, you look like you could use a nice bed." I wiped away my tears, getting out of Erlendur's embrace. Had he tried to cheer me up?   
  
I let out a deep sigh, realizing he probably just hadn't known how to deal with a crying woman. Torvi wouldn't have been much of an example there.


	94. Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siggy POV  
> 10-07-802

"Are his stories not amazing?" Aslaug asked, stars in her eyes. For once she wasn’t holding onto Ivar, he was asleep in his crib.   
  
"You think his dick is amazing," I muttered back, then raised my voice. "He has no business lingering this long, asking what he does."  
  
"He is just curious," she responded, a marked drop in her mood seeping through.  
  
"Had he asked this many questions about you, I would have worried as well. It's unseemly for a wanderer to... Stick around."  
  
"And that's just it. Worry. Nothing else, nothing substantial. You have nothing to fear from him."  
  
"I have everything to fear from him." He was looking at Aslaug with too much lust and asked about Ragnhild with too much greed. Something told me he loved the girl more than he did her.  
  
She wasn't a girl, though. She'd been a woman since I met her, as far as her body was concerned. Even though she could act as fearful as a child when she just got here. It had taken me a while to see it, but the girl had had a hard life. The softness of her hands when I first saw her and the ease with which she had taken to taking commands told me all I needed to know at first. Then the defiance had come, her fire, and in her eyes, it was either all or nothing. And the way she would lash out at any mention of the false god Athelstan had believed in, that only came from a deep rooted hatred, like the one I still bore towards Ragnar.  
  
"Siggy, listen to me. He does wonders for Ivar and his legs. Can you not bide him a while longer, if only for my son?" Her son... The crippled one I had meant to leave to the wolves. Ragnhild had been the one to put a stop to it, simply by laying her life on the line. Just like that, which such ease and grace, I missed how exactly she had worded her oath. She always did stuff like that, blindly rushing in with her morals and ethics, from her homeland. Whenever the topic came up she avoided it as if it were a curse that haunted her still, but her morals were just that important to her.  
  
She was a walking contradiction. One of her many sayings that make little sense unless she explained it first. Ragnhild would never tell us where she came from but loved telling us all about it. She would be afraid of men staring and then have me make a dress that showed her back in full. She had been a wonderful slave, as long as she had managed to keep her head down, but as a handmaid, she lacked the fire to properly get the women to do what she wanted from them, as if she were afraid to have them work too hard. She still had a lot to learn, but what she did know was all instinct.  
  
"I do not like him. You can't force me to, and you can't take away the worry I feel when he asks about Ragnhild."  
  
"He is just intrigued with her. What does it matter if he wants to know how she wears her hair? Or what she dresses like?" He had also asked about her stance on the gods and what she had told of her family, what she remembered from before she got here, and about her opinions on a lot of things we barely thought about.  
  
"What good does it do to tell him? Why would you even spend time with a man who talks about another woman like that?" Aslaug wasn’t happy how this conversation was going. She must have hoped it would turn into an opportunity for her to gossip about how close she and Harbard had gotten.  
  
"She's hardly a woman, let's be honest." Aslaug was skirting the truth again. Ragnhild would've been able to see through it with ease and know what I knew. She wasn't just fucking Harbard, she loved him. And that made her a target for what he wanted to know. The fact she didn't see through it made her weak. Lagertha wouldn't have fallen for it. Ragnhild wouldn't even have let him close. There was something to say for how the girl rejected any and all attempts from men trying to come close. She would never make a mistake like this.  
  
"Ragnhild is only four years younger than you," I pointed out. She hated that, and she deserved it. Once Ragnhild had been freed and smiled more, it had become clear just who of the two was most beautiful. Ragnhild’s face held something of a childlike innocence to it, but she looked like a woman all the same.  
  
"And she has a long way to go to be where I am now." But not as long as Aslaug seemed to think. When faced with a crisis, Ragnhild would do better than Aslaug. As long as she wasn’t a part of the scheme herself, Ragnhild knew how to work people’s weaknesses against themselves, and she was willing to go further than Aslaug ever would. She still had trouble keeping her emotions in check every now and then, but she knew better than to do so in public.   
  
Bjorn had helped her become more stable, while she had helped him grow patient. Both of them weren’t as quick to make mistakes when it came to important decisions that affected the kingdom. They could still fight like two hounds from Helheim, but never in public, and they always managed to talk it out before they had to work together again. In that regard, Rollo and I could learn a thing or two from them. We had parted in anger, over him finding out about what I had done with Horik.   
  
The thing Aslaug was right about was Ragnhild’s inability to cope with multiple things at the same time. She needed oversight to thrive, and that wasn’t always possible. Her head would fight with her heart as she put it herself, and that was when she counted on Bjorn. In truth, Ragnhild had many of the qualities Aslaug lacked. A sixth sense for trouble, knowing which fight to pick, a personality that inspired loyalty, and as long as she had oversight, she was a force to be reckoned with. Bjorn was lucky to have her.  
  
The two of them would marry, eventually. I'd bet my life on it. And if the fates were kind, it would be a while longer before they would take over from Ragnar, and they would each do better the we had. I just hoped I'd be there to see it, for it would bring upon prosperity and wealth, unlike anything I had ever seen.  
  
"If only because she's not been here that long, but she's out raiding as we speak. You've never been, have you?" I asked. Another one of her surprises. I was dying to find out how she'd fared. How she came back would say a lot about her as a future ruler of Kattegat, Ragnar and I had agreed on that at the least.   
  
"Neither have you," Aslaug spat back. "What are you trying to say?"  
  
"Stop fucking the wanderer." She flushed as if she'd hoped I hadn't noticed her avoiding answers and long walks.  
  
"Why must you be so rude to me? I thought we were friends." For lack of a word to describe enemies, you wanted to keep close. Ragnhild had once come up with a good description. In that way, she truly was the human equivalent of Draupnir, the gift that kept on giving. The more I got to know her, the more she made sense, and the more she shared.  
  
"The rude one is you, if you leave me to take care of the boys while you whore yourself out." She gasped, ever the lady. The worst part was that she was not just being used, she was paying the price for it at the same time. It irked me though, that I couldn't figure out why he wanted to know that much about her. There had to be a reason. He must have had something to gain. As a wanderer, he had little to lose but his life.  
  
"I will not stand for such insolence," she hissed, then got up to storm off. Aslaug had perfected that over the years. I just rolled my eyes. How Ragnar could have chosen her over Lagertha... At least she had stopped nagging Ragnar about making Ubbe his heir. Even there Ragnhild had helped, keeping herself out of the equation to get Ragnar to decide based on facts, not feelings. She was strange like that.  
  
Still, I knew better. He might have told Aslaug he hadn't decided and refused to do so, but I knew his choice as soon as I realized Aslaug had stopped whining about it. Ragnar had chosen Bjorn and now waited to see what she would do to him. Ragnar wasn't blind, and he wasn't a fool. He saw what I saw, and knew I was trying to groom her for command, much in the same way he did with Bjorn.  
  
"Get a fire going," I told the girls. "This place isn't going to warm itself." On moments like these, I missed her. Once we'd gotten past the language barrier and she had learned how to do basic things like making a fire, she hardly needed any direction from me. She just did things, and she had never been insolent towards me. It had always been aimed at Aslaug and Ragnar, and always concerned either the boys or where she came from.  
  
I know I should have cared more, but between all that was already going on with Horik, and Rollo, I just didn't want to question the one thing in my life that never caused me trouble - not a lot, at least. It had worked out, at any rate. No man dared question her loyalty to Ragnar since she came up with those wretched machinations. Though perhaps I should've taken more care to bind her to myself in loyalty. I doubted she even knew there was a difference between me and her former master. "Mistress, we're out of firewood," a girl said. I looked up and wondered how that could've happened.  
  
"Didn't you notice before? How are we going to keep warm, now? Come on, get going! Find some!" I missed her even more, now. Already I could see just how large the hole she left was, and just how much she had taken over from me whilst I was taking care of my daughter. Another one of her blessings, to be sure. Ragnhild had taken away a lot of worries and gave me the greatest gift of all. At my age, no less.  
  
I sighed as I looked around. If that wanderer was around here somewhere, I'd at least have someone to yell at I didn't depend on for my hair and dress repair. His curiosity for her was... Alarming. Had he been out to get information on her ties, he was going about it the wrong way. And he must be getting desperate if he was taking Aslaug away from her children even more.  
  
Harbard... What could he do if he meant her harm? Nothing while she was away, but if she came back and he was still here...  
  
I knew trouble was on her path. She had told me herself, almost two years back. She had to live, and die. Fight, and surrender. Perhaps this Harbard was the one she needed to fight. And Aslaug was giving him more and more ways to wound her each day. He would know her better than she herself would, and I knew how dangerous that could be in an enemy. I was certain of it. That man was a threat, and I had to do my best to stop it. I owed Ragnhild that much.  
  
"Ubbe?" If the boy heard we were doing something for Ragnhild, he'd agree in a heartbeat. The boys were always up to no good, and since Harbard had stolen away their mother, they had been acting out even more. "Ubbe? Hvitserk?" I couldn’t even find a trace of them, they weren’t in the hall.  
  
"The boys went out to play." That new thrall couldn't even keep an eye out on the firewood, much less children. Ragnhild had spoiled me, and only now I noticed just how much.  
  
"Where did they go?" Ragnhild always knew where the boys would be off to, she only had to hear half a word on what had happened before they left. She tried to explain their thinking to me once, but it had changed not a week later. The boys didn't want to be found by me, it was either Ragnhild or no one. She always had them come back and act like nothing happened, or had them apologize, or had brought a smile to their faces.  
  
No, the boys did not want to be found. With all the tension, and not having Ragnhild to run to this time around... They missed her. It wasn't like I missed her, I wasn't that emotional. Ubbe and Hvitserk however, were.  
  
"Just out," the woman shrugged. I'd get her for that. Ragnhild had always been fairly casual, but that had mostly been a habit after she already had trouble with calling us by our names. That was not a reason for this one to try and pull off the same, however.  
  
"Well? Did they say anything before they left?"  
  
"No." I moved to stand behind her, lowering my head next to hers.  
  
"No, mistress, because I didn't think that children their age need supervision." The girl paled.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mistress. I thought Ragnhild..." I wasn't the only one that noticed her absence.  
  
"Are you trying to blame your mistake on her, now?" She wasn't, but I needed to let out my frustrations.  
  
"Th - They were talking badly of their mother, last I heard." The girl was near tears. If she thought it would make me go any easier on her, she was sorely mistaken. Still, if they were upset with Aslaug... Ubbe was smart enough to realize what had been going on. He knew what his mother was up to.  
  
At a time like this, he would miss having Ragnhild to talk to. She had a way with those boys... Even though she had never raised a child of her own, she just seemed to get them.  
  
And on the last days before they left, she had taught the boys how to swim. It only took an hour, to have the boys tell it. They had been raving about eagle, frog, arrow ever since, whatever that meant. Hvitserk had even tried to demonstrate on dry land, and it looked ridiculous. I'd never seen someone swim like that, but they had assured me it was the best way. They could easily keep their heads up at all times, and even if they would break an arm or leg they would be able to stay afloat. Even the water would barely ripple, but they did have to work on it.  
  
Only in the shallow water, where they could stand upright. With her there the boys would never dream of going further, if only not to disappoint her. But by leaving, she had disappointed them, first. Little Hvitserk had been heart-broken over it. Seeing her go off into the distance had made it real to him, and he felt betrayed. Sigurd had cried as well, those first few days. Ivar was content as ever having his mother to take care of him, and Ubbe… He had grown resentful, but if anyone mentioned a bad word about her, he lashed out.  
  
An awful, gut-wrenching feeling took hold of me. If I was right, the boys could be in terrible danger. I just couldn't shake it.  
  
"Mistress?" I cleared the fog from my eyes and looked down at the thrall.  
  
"I have this terrible feeling. I have to get to the boys." Without further explanation, I ran off.  
  
I hoped it was all just a mistake, that Ragnhild's mistrust was somehow rubbing off on me. But my gut had barely failed me, if ever. Only when I'd dismissed it as senseless fear... It had cost me my husband, who lost to Ragnar, and my daughter, to a plague I had brought with. I would not dismiss this and risk losing the boys. I would get there, in time.  
  
I had to.  
  
To my great sorrow, my gut was right. As I got to the lake I saw the boys were way out in the water, breaking Ragnhild's rule. And worst of all, Harbard was with them in the water, standing near the edge.  
  
"Ubbe! Hvitserk!" I called out, but the boys merely looked up and waved at me.  
  
"Siggy! I'm working on my frog!" Bless his gentle heart. They seemed to enjoy themselves, but I wasn't feeling all that calm.  
  
"Harbard, what are you doing?" He looked up at me as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do, to give children swimming lessons.  
  
"I am helping them. I heard Ragnhild had made a start, but they need more guidance until they can call themselves water rats." That word... Water rat. I had no idea how it was supposed to look like, but I did know Ragnhild was the only one who had ever used that word. Harbard didn't want to get to know her, he wanted to make sure she was the one he was looking for.  
  
"Ragnhild calls us that as well," Ubbe said with a smile as he came our way. "Do you happen to know where she came from? You even have the same accent." Harbard's eyes flashed to mine, if only for the briefest of moments.  
  
"Your mother needs you home in time for dinner. Come on, get out." I tried to get the boys out, but they were loath to do so.  
  
Ragnhild had made them too dependent on her. They knew what Harbard was doing with their mother, Ubbe at the last, and still the lure of similar games and activities, it made them miss her less. This was the kind of thing Ragnhild would do with them to distract them from their woes.   
  
In their hearts, they loved her more than Aslaug. They would never admit it, or say it out loud, but I saw the evidence of it right in front of me. A man who spoke the same, and taught them how to do the same things, it was more important to them than their mother's honor. I'd never get them to listen to me without Harbard telling them to. Aslaug had told them to trust him, and this was the result.  
  
"I have never met this Ragnhild, but the way you all speak of her she sounds like an amazing woman,” he said.   
  
"She is. I really miss her." I needed to get them away from the wanderer. "You look a bit like her. She has the same color hair. Like sunlight." Hvitserk was right. Their hair, and their eyes... He was taller, but still short compared to Viking. They could be...  
  
They were...  
  
Harbard was her brother. The one she had told me about in passing. The one that had saved her life, but only after making her life very difficult. He couldn't know she was here. I was certain of it, he would hurt her if he found her.  
  
"Boys, now. Don't make me wait." My harsh tone was enough to scare the boys into submission.   
  
"Let me talk to Siggy," Harbard said with a kind smile. "Go practice a bit on your own, you've earned my trust." He waded out of the water, wearing a smug expression only I could see. The boys listened to him. Going against Harbard now would only weaken my position. He knew how to handle them, no doubt having heard from Aslaug how Ragnhild raised them.  
  
"Why did you bring them here?" I demanded.  
  
"Why do you hate me?" His question caught me off guard.  
  
"I - I don't hate you, I just don't trust you." He came closer, looking up at me, but staring me down all the same.  
  
"What have I ever done to hurt you or yours? Do my stories not please you?"  
  
"That's not what this is about," I bit as I realized he was trying to distract me with his emotional pleas. "I know who you are." He smiled. He had the gods-given audacity to smile at me.  
  
"I knew you'd figure me out. You're obviously the smart one." He confused me. Harbard was so across the field with his answers and expressions that it didn't make any sense to me. He didn't make sense to me. I couldn't get a read on him, at all. What did he want?  
  
"What do you want from her?"  
  
"So it's true?" The man's eyes went wide, begging me to say the words that would confirm his suspicions without a doubt. Had I not known Ragnhild the way I did, with her quirks and tells, this man would have been too difficult for me to handle. I had rarely seen a man play this well. And he was an outsider at that, making him even more dangerous.  
  
"I need you to leave, and never come back to these shores. Take your things and go."  
  
"I'm afraid you won't have anything to say about that. Aslaug prefers my services to be... Close." The tone in his voice dropped below freezing. He was trying yet a different approach, yes, it must be. He was not one to waste time on a dead end. He was ruthless. The only way to deal with this was what Ragnhild had done with Jorgenson. Refuse to play along.  
  
"Your services are no longer needed. Leave, before I'll have you arrested."  
  
"You don't know her like I do," he spat. "You know nothing. Not her name, not where she is from, and not her past. Only I can take care of her. She needs me."  
  
"She's doing just fine. I said, leave."  
  
"Fine? You call whoring around with an earl's son fine? She needs to come home with me, she’s been away for too long already. I can't lose her again. Do you not know how deep her sorrow goes? I can heal her, like I do Ivar. I can make her life worthwhile. But I will need her to come with me."  
  
"I know her well enough, you snake." I bit my tongue, angry at myself for letting that comment through.  
  
"Do you know she is of the Christian faith?" I took a step back at his words. I knew she hated Christians with the soft, slow burning heat of a woman dispossessed. I knew she had chosen a name she had to work at pronouncing properly, the first few days. I knew she was hiding something, and that kingdoms would fall apart if we ever found out. And... Families would be torn asunder. Her own. That of Ragnar and Aslaug. “She is bound to Him, as am I. We can’t stay gone for much longer.” "She has denounced your god since the minute I met her," I spoke in a clear, bright voice. "We care not for her name, or her ties to you. She has proven herself, and we will defend her from serpents like you." Harbard took me in, narrowing his eyes as he cocked his head. He frightened me.  
  
"Her name is Maria. She was named after the mother of Jesus Christ himself." No wonder she had felt so strongly about choosing a name for its own strength, and not to honor another, when it came to Ivar and Dagmar. She must have been judged based on her name all of her life, it was like a brand to her. I wouldn't allow myself to be one of the people who only added insult to injury. If she truly had overcome such odds there was no telling just what she was capable of.  
  
“What of it?” I said, my voice not as strong as I would have liked.  
  
Harbard took a step forward to close the distance again. His eyes were cruel, as they always must have been. These eyes, so much like Ragnhild's, they were built for malice. I couldn't tell where the difference lay, but I could see how Ragnhild always noticed someone's eyes first. If these were the eyes of her brother, the one who should've protected her... They could change from hot summer to freezing winter instantly. Only his eyes could not lie about what he intended to do.  
  
"You have no idea what you are getting caught up in. Tell me what I need to know, and I'll leave." Tempting as it was to get the boys to safety... It felt like betrayal. I didn't want to have to explain to Ragnhild I had met her brother, told him things, and had let him go.  
  
Just imagining it... She'd just stare at me, first. Then, slowly, her face would either grow angry, her rage building until she started shouting, or she would shrink away, crawling back inside herself, only slowly coming out again. It would take her weeks to recover from the shock. Whatever would happen, I'd lose her trust. If I were to leave the boys in his care she would curse me all the same.  
  
"I will tell you nothing." He let out a low, menacing growl, like he was a beast himself.  
  
"Are you truly willing to die, so she can live in a fantasy just a little longer? You are a fool, Sigrunn, and by doing what you think is right, you will only harm her more. She is my sister! My twin!" I gasped. Of course he was her twin. Freyja herself was twins with Freyr, it only made sense.  
  
"Y - your twin..."  
  
"Do you now see how wrong you are?" He put his fingers on my chin, dragging it down, forcing me to look into his eyes. They had shifted to kind consideration. "I love my sister. I failed to see how she was struggling before, but I won’t make that mistake again. I need her by my side. She will come with me, and we’ll live our days in grace once more. I won’t have her fall any further. She’s been hurt enough."  
  
"She's not hurt," I spat. His persuasive words and kind caresses of my skin almost lulled me into a false sense of security. "She is doing better than when you were still in her life. Ragnhild is happy, she's safe, and she is loved." I'd said too much. I saw his eyes change again, this time to amusement.  
  
"From what your princess told me, she's still plenty miserable. She fled because she was tired of the injustice. She wanted to live, and spread happiness throughout His kingdom. But she can’t if she’s not happy herself." His kingdom? Rollo had once told me about that time he was baptized, it had all been a joke to him… I had to get Harbard to keep on talking. I might just find out who or what Ragnhild was. To hear him talk like this, Ragnhild didn’t even know herself.  
  
“Yours is a false god. Only our gods are real.” He laughed, and as he did a shadow fell over my face. There wasn’t anything that could have cast the shadow, though. It spread out from his shoulders, as if…  
  
“If He doesn’t exist, neither do yours. You won’t get me to talk, but I do need you to answer my question.” I couldn't win. Not by words, or by deeds. He was not of this world. No wonder Aslaug told him all he wanted to know. He wasn’t human, and neither was Ragnhild.  
  
"This conversation is over. You are not welcome in Kattegat anymore. If you mention her name to me even once, I'll -" His fingers snaked around my throat and squeezed, hard. I was struggling to breathe, clutching at his arm to let me go.  
  
"I ask again, you stupid whore. Is your life worth refusing to answer a few questions?" I wheezed, all I could do at this point. "Do you care for what you think is right more than you do your own life? Are you willing to let those boys pay with theirs?" My eyes shot over at them, not knowing what he was talking about. Harbard pulled me close, all I could see was his face.  
  
I tried to wrest away his arm, trying to get away. Ragnhild had once told me something about choking, and how to get away. I wished I'd paid more attention to her strange tales. She was a wealth of knowledge, and I had done nothing with it. I was growing weak.  
  
If you can't defend - attack. Wasn't that what Rollo had said once? I lashed out with my nails, aiming for his eyes, and his hand gave away. I had to pay for it with a smack to my head. The force of it made me stumble a bit.  
  
"Harbard!" Water splashed, and I could hear panic. My eyes shot over to the boys again as I rubbed my throat. Hvitserk was throwing his arms around wildly, while Ubbe was seemingly trying to hold on to him as he called out. "Harb -" They were drowning.  
  
I could barely stay afloat myself. I couldn't save them. Ragnhild had offered to teach me, but I'd foolishly said no.  
  
"Help them," I pleaded. Harbard's eyes turned cruel, in a way that I could see he was enjoying how helpless I was before him. It was like this was vengeance to him.  
  
"Tell me what I wish to know." I couldn't believe this. He was using the boys drowning as leverage? If this was only her brother, I never wanted to meet her father.  
  
"I'll never tell you anything."  
  
"You don't even know what it is I desire to know," he said.  
  
"I don't care," I hissed. "And I won't let those boys drown while I stand by."  
  
"You'll never reach them. You can't swim, their weight will take you down. You'll drown with them, and then your daughter will be orphaned." I already had my cloak off, and my shoes followed.  
  
"I'm coming! Ubbe, keep up just a while longer!" Harbard pulled me back by my arm.  
  
"Have you ever heard her tell of Fela? Or Raphael?" Fela? The girl from the story he was so fond of telling? The… The sister who left her father’s hall to find a better life… The one who fell from grace… I was torn. The boys drowning, these strange questions, I didn't know what to do. I just knew I had to get away from him, fast. And the only way to do that was to answer him.  
  
"I have never heard those names before. You’re out of your mind." He laughed as he let go. A terrible laugh, an anthem of death and war as I tried to run through the water. If only for my length I might be able to stand and let the boys cling onto me as I walked out again. They knew better than to go beyond where they could stand. Ragnhild had told them so, and thus it was law.   
  
"Ubbe! Hvitserk! Hold on just a little longer!" They were sinking. I was too far out, I'd never make it.  
  
"Siggy!" Ubbe coughed up water as he called out to me. Just a little further. Just a bit...  
  
"You'll never make it! Come back! Siggy!" Oh, how I hated that man. He just stood by, watched as they drowned.  
  
I couldn't hear Hvitserk anymore. He had stopped thrashing, and I could only see the top of his head. Ubbe had a pained look in his face.  
  
Three feet. That was how much further the boys were, and where I could no longer stand in the water. The water weighed down my dress, and already my arms were feeling heavy.  
  
"Ubbe!"  
  
"Siggy!" He sounded tired, like he'd been in there for hours. For all I knew, they had been. Ragnhild had warned about the dangers of staying in the water for too long, and what could happen. She hadn't lied to the boys, she never did, and they had only disobeyed her when he had come around.  
  
He was poison. His mere presence had been cause for strife amongst ourselves. Harbard was a divider, a destroyer. I couldn't let him win.  
  
I jumped forward, gaining almost nothing in my attempt to reach the boys. I threw my arms around, kicked with my legs, but my feet got caught in my skirts. I only slowly made progress, and by the time I had finally reached the boys, I could only take in a deep breath and let their weight drag me down as Ubbe climbed on top of me. Ubbe clutched his brother tight, even though the body had grown limp. I felt his arm grasp around my throat, nails out, fighting to survive.  
  
The gods would save us. They would drain the lake enough for us to get to safety. They would rid us of this evil presence. They would fill my lungs with fresh air.  
  
Ubbe thrashed around, kicking and punching me a he did. I tried to push off against the bottom of the lake, but the shifting stones made it impossible for me to get far enough to breathe in myself.  
  
My lungs were screaming. They were on fire, and only air could make it feel better. I needed to go up. I needed to breathe.  
  
But I needed to keep Ubbe up more. As his weight suddenly disappeared I gasped for air, only to have cold water fill my lungs. The coldness made my muscles ache.  
  
She warned us that could happen, especially if the water was cold. Never go beyond where you can stand, ever. Not until she says so. Not until she knows you are a strong enough swimmer to survive.  
  
Harbard had ignored all of her rules for safety. He had done everything wrong and had put the boys in danger on purpose. As the water started to flow into my lungs I realized Harbard had meant for the boys to be found by me. He had it all figured out, down to the last detail. He had killed me, without having to kill me himself.  
  
And I had let him. The last of the air in my lungs came out through my nose and mouth. I couldn't move a muscle; all fight was taken from me. There was only knowing I was dying, and the hate for the man who did it to me.  
  
Dagmar... My sweet, beautiful girl. She would become the most beautiful woman around for miles. Ragnhild would have to teach her, now. How to be a woman, how to rule, and guide. She would not abandon my girl. I didn't need her oath to tell me she would. Dagmar...  
  
The sunshine at the end of my life... Like the faint ray of sunshine cutting through the surface of the lake.  
  
Dagmar, my pride. My heart.  
  
Dagmar...  
  
Dagmar...  
  
Dag...


	95. Hail to the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 26-08-802

I knew Ragnar's plan could take a few weeks to complete, but somehow I had hoped they would be successful sooner. I still worried Bjorn might not come back, or when he did, he would come back as king. Ragnar’s injuries had been bad, and without proper healers around he might just have taken a turn for the worse.   
  
Aslaug kept fme from worrying about it too much, but only because she brought her own difficulties. I could hardly handle having to force her to make a presentable figure with her daytime drinking, but since she had heard that she was now a queen, she strutted around like a peacock, acting the part of queen as she did more harm than good. Aside from having to take care of the boys I met up with a lot of the merchants to catch up on the gossip, worried about the supplies we would need to bring in to get through the winter, and I had to explain a lot of Aslaug’s behavior to the town. Frustrating as it was, I couldn’t show that I didn’t support her anymore. I got the feeling the whole town knew it, though. I saw it in their stares, heard it in the growing swell of gossip.   
  
At the very least I had Erlendur to help me through the worst of it. After threatening to stop helping her if she would send him home, Aslaug reluctantly agreed to no longer scream at him or taunt him. The boys were just glad to have me back, though I was tired early at night. After what I had seen, I didn’t trust anyone to take care of them, least of all their mother. Ivar was the only one I had no trouble letting near her. Without Erlendur's help I would have lost my mind.   
  
He was better than me at directing the servants, even the new ones. At the least Aslaug agreed that they needed to be punished. I wasn't all that upset to see three of them being replaced and have them sacrificed to Thor for a speedy return of our men. Leaving small children to fend for themselves, Sigurd still unable to talk without half his words being gibberish... I held no love for them anymore, no matter how fondly I had thought of them before. This had been a just decision.   
  
Erlendur was a great comfort when it came to talking about Paris as well, as he had been on the ship. He hadn’t so much as breathed a word about me and Bjorn planning to get engaged as we got here, relieving a significant part of my worries. Those things weren’t spoken of until they happened, like the name of a new child. The gods could just think that you wanted it too badly, and then decide to teach you a lesson.   
  
When the bells finally rang, heralding Bjorn's return, I forgot about all of my worries and made my way to the beach. The boys were with me, but Aslaug had decided it was unbefitting of a queen to wait for her king to return among the commoners. I knew it was because she feared having to face her husband after her abysmal behavior, and it didn't help that it was raining.   
  
The boats drew to a halt, and immediately men jumped out. Bjorn took a little longer, making sure something was carried off with care. I held my breath as I realized it was Ragnar, on a stretcher. Ubbe and Hvitserk ran up to their father, clamoring for Bjorn to tell them what had happened. I kept my distance a bit, not wanting to risk someone bumping into my belly in the chaos. I was clearly showing now, and the baby was awake and kicking. Only when Ragnar was carried off past me did Bjorn come to greet me. His eyes widened as he saw me, taking me in with the very much visible bump.   
  
"Surprise," I said as I beamed up at him, putting his hand where the baby was kicking.   
  
"Ragnhild..." He kissed me, one hand on my belly and the other in my neck. I held my hands on his chest, wanting to devour him. I'd had to miss him for too long, already. "You look amazing," he whispered as we pulled back a little. "Enough to make me forget about everything that went wrong after you left."   
  
"What? Bjorn... What happened?" I clutched his arms, wanting to hear it all.   
  
"Let's get you inside, first. This could take a while." He put an arm around me and guided me home, his hand constantly darting down to my belly as he smiled. "I'm glad you weren't there for the rest," he said as we walked in.   
  
"And I'm glad you convinced me to come home, as well. It's been terrible." He got a worried look in his eyes as he pulled off my cloak for me, as if I'd already gotten too heavy to do anything. I wanted to sit down, but Bjorn went to his knees in front of me and put his hands on my belly.   
  
"First things first. How are you feeling? How far along are you? I thought it was just a few weeks when we said goodbye, but this doesn’t look like a few weeks to me.” I meant to pull Bjorn up to his feet, but he wanted to stay right where he was.   
  
"I'm fine, both of us are. I'm tired a lot, but otherwise everything seems to be going well. I have no idea how far along I am to be honest, I just know that the baby started kicking on the boat." I let a hand slide along the side of his face. The way he looked at my stomach was the same as when he had proposed. "It can hear you," I said as he looked up at me in wonder, hands still on the bump.   
  
"Really? Hi there. I'm going to be your father. I can't wait to meet you..." He put a gentle kiss on my stomach and looked up in pure wonder as the baby kicked at just the right time. “It recognizes me! Did you see that? The baby knows that I’m home.” Seeing him like this, I could forget about a lot. But not everything.   
  
"As much as I love having you back, I think we both have some important things to talk about," I said softly. I would have to tell him, all of it.   
  
"Can't it wait half an hour? I've had to miss so much already, and... I missed you. Us." His fingers slid to my side, but as much as I wanted to, he had to hear this from me now.   
  
"No, it can't." I sat down on the bed, feeling all play disappear from my face. "Please, this isn't going to get easier." He sat down next to me, taking my hand in his.   
  
"What is it?" I opened my mouth to tell him he could go first, but he beat me to it. “I know my news can wait for a bit, you’ll feel better once you get it out.” If he offered like that, I couldn’t very well refuse.   
  
"Siggy died, while she saved Ubbe and Hvitserk from drowning. Aslaug was too busy fucking some wanderer to even notice they were missing. Then she started drinking, and neglected the boys, and Dagmar. She died a week after." Bjorn didn't know how to react, and I didn't know how to break his heart even more. Dagmar had been a pleasant distraction in between all the men roaming around the hall. "The servants didn't do shit to keep it together, and Ubbe had to take care of Hvitserk and Sigurd by himself. They were almost skin and bones when I got back. And all the while Aslaug was drinking and telling me how wonderful I was doing, just to spread rumors about me behind my back." Somewhere along the lines I had gotten tears in my eyes and felt close to crying. Bjorn held me in his arms, comforting me like only he could.   
  
"They looked fine when I saw them. You did well, I’m sure of it. You took care of them, like you’ll take care of our child." He didn’t understand. That was only a part of it, I had more to tell.   
  
"A - and the... The rumors..." The pain and humiliation overwhelmed me again, forcing me to close my eyes as I tried to hold it back long enough to finish.   
  
"I don't care what they say. I know you, and I trust you. If anyone dares call you anything but beautiful, smart, and strong, I'll have them arrested."   
  
"They're not calling me dumb," I sobbed, trying to catch my breath. "And you can't arrest anyone." I looked up at him, seeing he hadn't just made a joke to cheer me up.   
  
"I can," he sighed. "With father taken ill, someone has to take over. We had to sail past Denmark to take care of Horik's family, but we couldn't find them all. Rollo stayed back to make sure we catch Erlendur."   
  
"Bjorn..." He pushed on, wanting to throw everything out in the open.   
  
"I have to rule Kattegat until Ragnar gets better. I know you don't like what we had to do, but it was the only way to make sure Kattegat stays safe. That you stay safe, and our child." So he had returned to me as a king, after all. I would need to step up my game, immediately. I wiped away my tears, knowing everything had to get out in the open.   
  
"You killed Erlendur's family? Gunnhild, and his siblings?" That meant Erlendur was to die, as well, for no other reason than who he was. He must have known this was coming, he’d even told me he was about to lose his family, once, back on the ship. He’d given up on getting there in time, of getting them to safety. But… Why?   
  
Bjorn put an arm around me as if to comfort me.   
  
"I had to, they would have come after us. Ragnar was too quick to kill Horik, he was careless. And now I have to clean up the mess Aslaug left behind here as well." He rested his head on my shoulder, waiting for me to react. I put my hand on the side of his face, showing him I wasn’t that weak anymore. In this, my opinion didn’t matter yet. Just because Bjorn was acting king didn’t mean I was acting queen.   
  
"I don't blame you, Bjorn. I don't resent you, and I don't hate you for what you had to do. But there is something you need to hear, and you need to hear it from me." I took a deep breath as I gathered my strength. "The rumors Aslaug spread -"   
  
"Mean nothing to me. I told you."   
  
"They say I cheated on you." Whatever he had been expecting, this wasn't it. "With Erlendur. He's here." Bjorn's nostrils flared as he got up, starting to pace the room. "He offered to help out, and I took him up on it. I only found out who he was after nearly a moon at sea, Ubbe was the one to let on something was wrong. And I really, really needed his help." Bjorn's silence made me feel anxious. I couldn't get a read on what he was thinking, or what he would do.   
  
"Where is he now?" he asked after a minute.   
  
"Last I saw he was at the hall. What do you mean to do to him?"   
  
"I don't know." Bjorn let out a nervous chuckle. "He wants my blood, and I want his. And apparently, the whole town thinks he slept with my wife." He must have thought to come back to a quiet home. Everything wouldn’t have been this bad if Siggy hadn’t died. Dagmar would still be here, Aslaug wouldn’t have started drinking, the boys would have been taken care of… Whatever had happened that day, it had been bad. The boys refused to speak on it, and as they were using my own words against me I couldn’t do much.   
  
"You don't have to do it all by yourself. You know I'll help you through this, Bjorn. I won't let you bear this burden alone." Finally he stopped pacing, seemingly taking me in.   
  
"You're glowing," he whispered as he came to kneel before me. "You look more beautiful than the sun." His hands found my bump again.   
  
"And you're sweet to say so, but I really think we'll have to wait for a bit to have sex. If you want to catch Erlendur, you might want to do it now. He’ll have figured out that you came back by now, and if you’re right he might try and run away."   
  
"We have a little time," he assured me. I pulled back my hands, making it very clear how serious I was about this.   
  
"You're avoiding making a decision. Now is not the time to sit back and relax. I love you too much to let you make a mistake like that." I leaned over, my forehead touching Bjorn's chin. "When I married you, I promised to support you, and help guide you, and be honest with you." As he let out a deep breath I knew he saw I was right.   
  
"Then what do you think I should do?" he asked.   
  
"Arrest him. Buy yourself some time to think as you settle into everything else."   
  
"You'd let me arrest the scumbag who helped you out?" He knew how hard it was for me to ask for help from strangers, that alone told him I had been desperate.   
  
"I'll be mad at you for it, but you can't do whatever I think is right. I'm not the acting king." Bjorn chuckled at my honest answer, then got up, a new vigor taking root in his heart.   
  
"Are there any places he used to go to?"   
  
"The woods, mostly, or he'd come here to escape Aslaug's anger." Bjorn rolled his shoulders up and down once, a clear sign he didn't like that information, but he pressed on.   
  
"Is he armed?"   
  
"Only a small knife I believe." With a curt nod he got up and went out, leaving me tired and confused. With Bjorn back to take care of business, I had time to feel just how tired I was.   
  
I lay down on the furs and wrapped them around me, covering myself in the soft, grey hairs that now gave me such comfort. Bjorn was acting king of Kattegat. He was 21, he was too young for this, still. Hell, I was too young for this. I couldn't rule a kingdom or make big decisions about the people who lived here.   
  
All I had managed to do was smooth things over and force Aslaug to keep sober long enough to hear the people out before she would succumb to the siren call of her barrel of wine. I wasn't comfortable to rule on any cases, but I did speak up on behalf of whoever I thought was right. Most cases were small and mostly ran high on hurt feelings, having years of festering relationships underneath, but others would be left for Bjorn to decide on.   
  
Ruling came with a lot of responsibilities and choices I didn't want to make. Like having Horik's family killed, probably caught unaware of their fate... Erlendur wouldn’t fare much better. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it, Erlendur would never hurt me, or the ones I loved. He was kind, and considerate, not a merciless killer. If ruling meant sentencing kind and caring people to death because of who their parents were, I didn’t want anything to do with it. This wasn’t what I had signed up for when I’d chosen to marry Bjorn. Condemning criminals, raiding, that I could handle, but now Bjorn was king, and not just an earl’s son…   
  
I already hated it. I was questioning my every move, even before it became relevant. Bjorn would tell me I'd have to stop thinking and start feeling, but all I felt was tired. I let out a yawn, curling up a bit to feel my belly protected from all sides. Already five moons. Soon... Soon I'd have my child in my arms.   
  
"I just know you're going to be a girl, my little sweet pea," I said with a smile. "You are going to do amazing things, I can already tell. And your father's going to love you so, so much. He already does, I think. No, I know so. Both of us already love you, and we can't wait to meet you."   
  
I got changed around dinner time, feeling refreshed from just simply lying down on the bed for an hour or so. Since Bjorn wasn't back yet I figured he must have been over at the hall. It was probably safe to assume we'd be eating there tonight. The hall was brimming with excitement, much of which was out of my sight as Helga and Floki saw me and were surprised to see my belly this big, already.   
  
"Yes, I think I'm close to six moons," I said, answering Floki’s finger on my forehead. Whatever he thought he was doing, it didn’t surprise him.   
  
"How could you not have noticed sooner?" Helga asked, her eyes big in wonder as I let her feel my bump. No one could deny it wasn't my child growing in there now. I already had to pee more, and the added weight started to hurt my back.   
  
"It's not like I knew what to look out for. I think I might have bled normally for at least two moons, it started kicking on the way back."   
  
"Are you still sick in the morning?" Floki asked.   
  
"No, that barely happened. I got sick on the ship, but that could’ve been the sea sickness for all I knew. I do feel tired a lot, but with you all back here that should get better now." I saw Helga's eyes flit away to somewhere I couldn't see.   
  
"Yes, I heard some disturbing tales... How has Aslaug been holding up?"   
  
"Queen Aslaug is having the time of her life. Ever since I told her she's been acting the part." Floki let out a disapproving hum.   
  
"Making you need to rely on some dubious friends. How did that even happen?"   
  
"I'm sure you already know, Floki. If Bjorn told you, you know my version of the story. Speaking of which, where is he?"   
  
"He's been arrested, where do you think he is?"   
  
"I meant Bjorn, but that's good to hear, I guess..." I looked around, but I couldn't see him. He must have been off taking care of things, there was a lot to go over for him. And as much as I wanted to hear him tell of what had happened in Paris after I had left, he had to hear about the supplies I had bought up at the market to keep our stores filled for the coming winter.   
  
"He's out for a bit, he needed to confer with some people." I sighed, knowing this might've happened. As I looked around I saw Sigurd waddling up to us, looking distraught.   
  
"What's wrong?" I asked as I picked him up.   
  
"Daddy is asleep." He slumped up against me, forcing me to hold onto him with both hands.   
  
"Your father is sick, Sigurd. He needs to sleep to try and get better. Can't you play with Hvitserk and Ubbe?" He vehemently shook his head.   
  
"I'll play with you," Helga said as she took him from my hands. I let out a little sigh of relief as his weight disappeared from my arms, despite his whines.   
  
"You need to take care of yourself first," Floki said as he put an arm around me. He'd seen the troubled look in my eyes as Sigurd started fussing. "He can't cling to you like before."   
  
"I know that," I said a little catty. "Sigurd was very upset when he found out I was pregnant, and then I had to explain to him that I wasn't his mother. For the past moon I had to take care of everyone, Floki. I know very well just how clingy he’s become and what kind of problems that causes." He tried to calm me down with an arm over my shoulder.   
  
"And now you can relax and take it easy," he said as he guided me to a seat, watching me carefully as I sat down slowly. “You know we’re all here to help now, you don’t have to do everything alone. In fact, I forbid it.”   
  
"Oh, stop looking at me like that. My back hurts, I'm not that fat yet. I know how to take care of myself." Even I wasn’t convinced of that. The baby was pushing on a fair amount of organs already, not just my bladder.   
  
"You have enough reasons to take it easy..." I rolled my eyes, not liking this sudden surge of protectiveness that fanned through my friends. Floki leaned into me and whispered in my ear. "Do you still wear that ring around your neck?"   
  
"I do... Why are you asking?" He hadn’t been fond of our first marriage and speaking of it out in the open like this made me wary. Was he back to his usual bit of knowing what the gods wanted?   
  
"Because Bjorn lost his, and he asked me to find him one that looks the same. But I have no idea what it looks like." I let out an exasperated sigh, then got the chain off my neck, handing it over. Bjorn and I had more important things to worry about, but us being married was one of the few things I had to hold onto. Him having been careless with his ring made me feel angry, and worried.   
  
"Tell him he's a fucking idiot," I said with a sigh, trying to let go of the stress that was starting to rise inside of me.   
  
"He knows. Which is why he didn't want to tell you himself. Ragnhild..." His eyes were starting to get a bit foggy, somehow.   
  
"What is it?" He threw his arms around me, making me think something else was going on here. He barely ever hugged me of his own accord. "Floki? You're starting to freak me out."   
  
"I'm just happy to see you again, doing so well. I know you had it hard here, and you did well. You should be proud of yourself." I hadn't realized Floki was becoming soft. At the least he was past his dark spell, that was as much as I could hope for.   
  
"Are you going soft on me?" I asked. He grunted as he got up.   
  
"You always have to ruin things, don't you? Can't I just be happy to see you doing so well?" I gave him a kind smile.   
  
"I know. Thank you, Floki." He extended his hand to me, lifting me up to my feet as I took it.   
  
"I have something to show you," he said with his telltale giggle. "You'll love it." Curious, I followed him out. He almost dragged me through the doors, making me wonder what it was he even could be this excited about. I needed clarity and oversight, not surprises and shifty looks through the hall. That had better end with this surprise of his.   
  
Floki pulled me after him all the way to the goat pen, making me even more confused. It grew worse when I saw Ubbe and Hvitserk waiting there, looking giddy as if I'd tell them a new part to the Star Wars story.   
  
"What's going on here?" I asked, feeling like I was missing something big. "Why are you all looking at me like that?" They were keeping something from me, and it was big. I wanted to know as well.   
  
"Ragnhild," I heard Bjorn say from behind me. I turned around and saw him go down on his knee. Floki handed him my ring, and suddenly everything fell into place. "Will you marry me?" I hadn't forgotten about it. I knew that with Bjorn's return, our real marriage was coming as well. But with all that had happened, and all Bjorn had to take care of now, I assumed he'd want to wait for a bit, at least until everything calmed down.   
  
My hand shook a bit as I held it out to him, so he could put the ring on my finger again.   
  
"I do," I managed to squeak out. Bjorn got up and held me in his arms.   
  
"You might have to wait a bit to say those words, but I'll take it as a yes." Only now I realized I'd used the wrong words. It didn't matter, I was too happy to feel any shame or embarrassment. Happy wasn't even an adequate word to describe what I felt.   
  
"I love you," I whispered.   
  
"I love you, too." Bjorn kissed me on the lips, and I could feel his desire to be with me alone.   
  
When we finally parted, Floki and the boys were the first to congratulate us. I loved how Bjorn had managed to blend everything together. It was customary for Viking to bring along a few valued family members with them when they proposed, but he'd managed to keep it a bit low-key at the same time. And with the boys here, I felt like a queen in my own right.   
  
"Did you like the surprise?" Ubbe asked.   
  
"I did, and I'm very glad you two were here for it. Though I am a bit confused why we're out here with the goats." Bjorn chuckled as he took hold of my hand.   
  
"This is where I first talked to you. It took a few drinks before I got the courage to come up and ask you anything at all, and you barely said a word back." I flushed as I recalled the memory. I'd been so terrified of what Ragnar would do to me I had trouble understanding him at all.   
  
"You remembered?"   
  
"Of course I did. I was mopey all day because I thought you ignored me. And later that night I saw you cry as Lucky was sacrificed. I just knew I had to get to know you and try and make sense of what was going on in your head." I leaned in close, thinking back to how we were when we just met.   
  
"So much has happened since then."   
  
"I've got half a mind to take you home, but there are some things we need to do, first." Bjorn looked genuinely saddened.   
  
"Yes, of course. Honestly, I figured you'd want to wait to propose with everything going on."   
  
"Are you kidding? It's the one thing I've been looking forward to ever since you left. And this, of course." His hand slid down to my belly, making me love him even more.   
  
I yelped in surprise as he suddenly lifted me up in his arms.   
  
"Bjorn, what are you doing?"   
  
"Adhering to tradition," he said with a mischievous smile. "What, did you think I'd spend the rest of the day worrying about boring stuff like our grain supplies? I tried to propose to you as soon as we got home, but you kept interrupting me."   
  
"I figured there was this whole negotiation thing we'd needed to get through. How was I supposed to know - what don't I know?"   
  
"We took care of that already. It's not like you had someone to do it on your behalf, so Lagertha stepped in."   
  
"Really..." I didn't like this one bit.   
  
"You wouldn't have known what to ask for, anyway. Our house will become yours by right, and you'll get some lands as well. Oh, and some chests full of treasure from the raid." Bjorn looked down as I remained silent, trying to wrap my head around all of it. I would own land. I hadn't even known that was an option.   
  
"O-okay..."   
  
"What, did you think you wouldn't get a nice dowry? Since you're the only member of your family, you'll get the mundr as well. Mother made sure of that. I think that was her trying to make sure you got your due for your part in the raid, as well."   
  
"There's more?" Bjorn shook his head as he carried me inside the hall.   
  
"Do you even know what you got yourself into?" He meant it as a rhetorical question, but I honestly didn’t know. I had been so focused on the ruling part, I had forgotten about the perks.   
  
"No. I'll have to thank Lagertha for making sure I..."   
  
"It's okay to say it. It's not a dirty word." I still felt uncomfortable.   
  
"I'm rich," I whispered.   
  
"You are marrying a prince, after all. That made Lagertha even more fierce." I let out a nervous chuckle, still wondering where Bjorn was taking me, exactly. He put me down in front of the dais, then shouted out loud to the rest of the hall.   
  
"Listen up! Many of you saw this coming, and finally she let me talk her into it. Ragnhild and I just got engaged!" Cheers and the sound of horns banging on the tables rose up, loud enough to let the whole town know. Some faces were surprised to hear it, though. The faces that were certain I had cheated on Bjorn. The ones that whispered behind my back and heard whispers from Aslaug.   
  
Bjorn caught my attention and kissed me, passionately. All the faces fell away, as did the worries. Bjorn was back, I hadn’t even allowed myself to feel happy about that yet.   
  
"Are you ready for this?" He whispered as he grinned at me, making me regret having to ask.   
  
"Ready for what?" I yelped as I felt lukewarm ale flow down the back of my dress.   
  
"For that," Bjorn laughed as he was drenched in ale himself. "We do have some traditions that don't involve blood and sacrifices." Since I was drenched already, I just went with it.   
  
"Then we'd better make use of it." I pulled him close and kissed him, only causing more people to throw their ale all over us. I didn't mind. I didn't care. Bjorn and I could finally wear our rings and celebrate our love in public. He nearly broke my back as he leaned over. My arms clinging to his neck, his arms holding me up, our tongues finally met again.   
  
"Eww, gross!" I chuckled as I heard Ubbe complain, breaking the kiss. Bjorn put his chin on my head, and I felt him laughing as I held him close. We both put a hand on my bump, and I knew everything was going to be okay.


	96. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-09-802

Ragnar was still unconscious, and it was uncertain if he would ever wake up. Bjorn hated having to leave me alone all the time, but I understood that we had more important things to worry about than doting on our child for hours at a time. He was mostly mad at Aslaug for having left him such a mess to try and sort out, but he turned his rage towards Erlendur.   
  
“He’s not who you think he is,” Bjorn had insisted. “He’s a conniving cunt who will stop at nothing to get back at us for killing his family. We can’t trust him.” He made it sound like Erlendur would stab me in the back the second he thought it would benefit him.   
  
“If that were true, he never would have stayed here to help me out. He knew what was coming, and still he decided to help me. Will you kill him just because you think he’s a threat? How could he even hope to prove his intentions to you?” No matter what Erlendur would say or do, it would never be enough to placate Bjorn. I couldn’t stand by and watch my friend die.   
  
“You don’t understand, this is part of being a ruler. You said you understood that, but this doesn’t sound like you get it. This is about survival, not being a good person. He has to die so we can be safe. So we can continue to be good people, who take care of those they rule over.”   
  
“I understand perfectly why you had to take care of Horik’s family,” I snapped. “You had to clean up after your father, and then you left Rollo back in Roskilde to consolidate power. But that doesn’t mean Erlendur has to die as well, not when he proved to me that he disagreed with his father and that he wants to help us thrive.” Then the baby had started kicking at my spine and I needed to lie down.   
  
Bjorn had agreed to let it rest for a few days before he made a decision. It was all I could ask for, really. I had no say in what would or wouldn’t happen, but I made sure to point out just what Erlendur had done to help me whenever it came up. My pleas were often cut short by the baby pushing on my bladder, or my spine. At times it felt like even the baby was against Erlendur staying alive.   
  
As a result of my lobbying, Bjorn had told Erlendur to get out of town with the next ship available. Standing on the beach, I couldn't help but say goodbye to him. I couldn't help feeling sad he had to leave. He had stood by me through one of the most trying times of my life, and only Bjorn seemed to somewhat understand it. It was like all the others didn’t even want to try and understand to see things my way.   
  
"I'm glad I got to know you, at least for a little while. I'm not sorry I stayed," Erlendur said before he pulled me in a tight embrace. "I've already had to crawl so far, I'll manage the rest on my own," he whispered. I couldn't help laughing at that. He remembered the lyrics I taught him on the ship.   
  
"I hope we meet again. I'd hate never seeing you again." He answered my smile with his. Then his eyes shifted to Bjorn, who must have given him a death stare. Erlendur picked up his stuff and boarded the ship bound for Hedeby. I didn't want to look at Bjorn right now, I was afraid that if I caught his stare I'd be mad at him again. Lagertha took my hand and pulled me close.   
  
"It's good you want to trust people more, but this was simply not the right time, and not the right person."   
  
"I know." Lagertha had told me some things that Bjorn hadn't been able to find the words for. Even back in Paris, Bjorn and Erlendur had been at each other's throats over some comments Erlendur had made about me. It explained why Bjorn had been livid about me defending Erlendur, but I couldn't deny how much he had helped me out. I owed him for that, some childish pranks wouldn’t change my opinion on the matter.   
  
"I'll expect an invitation for the wedding soon, somewhere early in spring would probably be best," she told me and Bjorn. "I can't wait to meet my first grandchild. Take care of them both, Bjorn. I'll know if you don't." With that, she boarded the boat as well and took off. Bjorn wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head.   
  
"I know you did this more for me than for him. Thank you," I whispered.   
  
"I just hope this was the right decision. With all those rumors going around already..." They would only get worse after this. Still, I couldn't bear seeing Erlendur killed after all he did for me. Even seeing him imprisoned had been enough to make me upset, and that had made Bjorn upset because he worried about our child.   
  
"What did he say? Before he left?"   
  
"It's part of a song I taught him. Didn't I tell you? I taught him some of my language."   
  
"You didn't..." He sounded more bitter than I'd thought. It was just a song.   
  
"He told me he'd be fine, and that I shouldn't worry about him. It's no big deal." Bjorn put his arm around my waist and we headed back to the hall.   
  
"Why did you even teach him?" I hadn't seen Bjorn this uncertain in a long time.   
  
"He asked me to. It was so boring without you there, I didn't mind the distraction. Why does it bother you this much?" I tried to look him in the eye, but he kept his eyes forward, letting his fingers slide through the hair that hung on my back.   
  
"Because I wasn't the one to learn. I don't like that he knows that part of you, and I don't."   
  
"Does that - you want to learn Dutch because you're jealous?"   
  
"No! It's just... I don't know. Can we please drop it? I need to focus on this afternoon." As I didn't respond immediately, he kissed me on my hair. "Gods, I'll miss it."   
  
"Miss what?" I had no idea what he was talking about.   
  
"Your hair. After we get married."   
  
"Excuse me?" Bjorn sighed, and ignored my question as we entered the hall. "I won't ask until tonight, but it seems there are still some things I need to understand about what getting married means."   
  
"We will. I figured you already knew, but I'll explain everything afterwards. First I need to get this over with." As I sat down I grimaced a bit, cursing the lack of a proper back rest. I caught Bjorn looking.   
  
"It's just my back again, it's only gotten worse now my ankles are swelling a bit."   
  
"Then I guess I won't have to ask you if you'll be there."   
  
"But I -"   
  
"You'll stay here. Maybe get a nice hot bath, I know those help a little." I muttered something under my breath, but Bjorn ignored me. He got ready for his big speech, and shortly after one of the new servants informed me my bath was ready. I hadn't been all that kind to the new girls yet, and I felt bad about that.   
  
The girl looked like all fresh servants do. A sullen look in her eyes as she tried to get to grips with her new situation. Eyes downcast, and she tried to hide away in plain sight. The only thing different about her was that she looked Asian. She must have come quite a long way, to end up here in Norway.   
  
"What's your name again?" I asked. The girl didn't know what to do.   
  
"Idu," she replied with a very sloppy curtsy.   
  
"Idu. I don't require you to behave very formally when we're in private like this. You can call me by my name, and you are free to ask me questions or tell me what you think, though others might not approve when they're around." She was openly staring at me. The girl didn't believe me, not one bit. "You're about to see me naked, as you'll have to help me get in the tub. I'd rather have us feel a little more at ease when that happens." I got up and made my way to the back, putting a hand on my side to try and keep the pain at bay a little. Idu followed closely behind, only rushing past me as she saw a large boiling pot spitting out water.   
  
She started cursing in her own language as her attempt to get the pot off led to boiling hot water extinguishing the fire beneath. I had to chuckle a bit as I recalled my own mistakes when I'd first got here.   
  
"I apologize, mistress," she said as she caught me looking, bowing down deep at the waist.   
  
"Don't worry about it, that happened to me all the time." I walked up to her and saw most of the coals were soaked through. "Get some of those wooden blocks and put them down first. If you put on fresh turf over it and top it off with coals, you'll have a fire roaring and you're rid of all the excess water in ten minutes."   
  
"But - but that's not how I was taught."   
  
"Aslaug never noticed when I did it." Her eyes went big at that.   
  
"You are a slave?"   
  
"I was, now I'm just helping out a bit. Or at least I think so. This little sweet pea might have changed all that." Now that I had my own child on the way, and Bjorn's income as well as my own hoard from the raid, we could live comfortably for a while as the baby was growing.   
  
Idu got to work and got the fire started with just the barest hint of help from me to get the fire started. The flint was getting old and useless, so I had a little trouble with it myself. Then she helped me out of my dress, and into the tub.   
  
"Where are you from?" I asked as she scrubbed my back.   
  
"Francia." A lie, but I let her get away with it. I couldn't force her to trust I was different. I let my body relax as I felt Idu's hands gently massage my spine. She knew just how to handle all of my aches and discomforts, even down to my ankles.   
  
"Have you bathed a lot of pregnant women before?"   
  
"No, am I doing something wrong?"   
  
"On the contrary. I don't even have to tell you what is ailing me." I had meant it as compliment, but Idu didn't seem to appreciate it. "That will be all for now," I told her as she finished rinsing out my hair. "I want to soak for a while, can I call you when I'm done? I'll need some help to get out." Bjorn would kill me if I slipped.   
  
"Yes, mistress." She bent again, halfway down her waist, then left. I rolled my eyes as I leaned back, putting my arms over the edge of the tub. For once, my breasts weren't hurting as they didn't weigh me down. It felt like a godsend.   
  
"I thought I'd have to drag you in," I heard Bjorn say. I didn't even bother sitting up.   
  
"Are you kidding? I love this. Half an hour without pain is the highlight of my... How much have I been bathing lately?" Usually I kept it to once every two days.   
  
"A lot." Bjorn's face appeared next to mine, making me smile as I kissed him. "Can it really hurt that much?"   
  
"Apparently so. I do remember something about how my breasts get less painful if they're massaged."   
  
"Really, now?"   
  
"Yes, very much so."   
  
"Then it seems I've been neglecting my duties." Bjorn got up a bit and pulled up his sleeves. He let his hands slide down my chest. As his hands enveloped my breasts I realized they were growing fast. He used to be able to cup them with his hands with ease, but now they were getting to be a bit much for one hand. Still, he managed to massage them perfectly.   
  
"Do you like how they've grown?" I asked.   
  
"I hadn't really noticed." His fingers lingered on the darkening aureoles.   
  
"Bjorn."   
  
"Don't make me say it out loud. I'll want to fuck you for hours, and I don't have that kind of time." Satisfied, I leaned back, biting my lip to try and contain the sighs of relief and pressure I felt fighting to come out. It barely worked, though. Bjorn's fingers kept coming back to my nipples, and as the first gasp reached the surface, the water sloshed at the sudden bucking on my hips.   
  
"I love you," Bjorn softly whispered as he let one of his hands slide down even further, past my belly. I positioned myself, and soon found myself gasping for air. My panting only egged him on, making him only more eager to please me.   
  
"Bjorn... I love you, too..."   
  
"You're just saying that because I'm about to make you come." Before I could protest he got me off. I had to grab hold of the edge to keep from sliding down the tub. Just a look through my lashes was enough to pull him in for another kiss.   
  
"I can't believe what a mess you made," he grinned as I caught my breath. He was soaking wet, as was the floor.   
  
"Well, you have been neglectful of your duties," I pointed out with a wicked smile. He leaned in for a kiss, which he broke off before it got too intense.   
  
"You're going to be the death of me, someday." I watched him go, on his way to change into something a little drier, no doubt. He did have the entire town to speak to, but at the least he seemed a lot more relaxed now.


	97. Love Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-09-802

Bjorn was ecstatic when he came back from the speech. The people still supported Ragnar and would follow him until such a time Ragnar was to wake up. He and Floki were immediately off, though, going gods know where. Helga took off with the boys, leaving me alone with Aslaug. And judging by her face, she meant to set me straight.  
  
"You have some fucking nerve," she started off.  
  
"So do you," I cast back.  
  
"Erlendur should have died."  
  
"Siggy and Dagmar should have lived," I said, feeling myself grow warm. It was easier to pretend it was from the bath earlier than it was to admit I was filling up with rage this easily. I refused to believe this had anything to do with hormones going beyond my control.  
  
"That brat will come back here with an army, you hear me? And he will not be kind. He will not have mercy. And he will not spare you." She sat down opposite of me, telling me she wouldn't let down or walk off without giving it her all. She really thought she was right about this, and somehow believed that she was blameless in it all.  
  
"He will do no such thing." I was getting tired of having to defend Erlendur like this. Especially Aslaug must have seen what he did when he was here, out of all people she should understand why I was defending him like this.  
  
"And how long did it take you to convince Bjorn of that? You pushed him into a corner and forced this mistake on him." Erlendur had been imprisoned two weeks ago, had it taken her this long to figure out that I had talked to Bjorn about it? She was worse off than I’d thought.  
  
"All I asked for was that Bjorn makes the decision with a clear head. It was his call, not mine," I said as I clutched the edge of my seat. If she wanted to make this personal, I had a few things to bring up with her, as well.  
  
"The worst part is that you really believe that, don't you? Do you really think Bjorn would have made the same decision if you didn't mean so much to him?"  
  
"I do, Aslaug. I believe he is capa -"  
  
"Fucking delusional cunt," she hissed. "You just got pregnant, you just got engaged, and you begged him. You groveled. Just so you can fall asleep at night because you don't want to have Erlendur's blood on your hands. You risked all of our lives, for that snake."  
  
"You've got some nerve calling him names after what you did, your majesty." I was almost breathing venom. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out where those rumors came from?" Aslaug started to laugh bitterly.  
  
"So that's it. You stupid little bint. Did you really not realize it was Erlendur who spread them? I was the one trying to dispel them. And the longer he was here, the more outrageous they became. One time I even heard you sang him a love song, and then taught him the words!" That wasn't a rumor. That - that was true. But I failed to see how that was a problem. Aslaug realized I had no response. Her eyes turned hard and angry again. "In your own language? What were you thinking!"  
  
"I was thinking it was just a song," I bit back.  
  
"And when was the last time you ever heard a poem or song about love in Norse? I can't believe I'm saying this, but Lagertha was right. You're a danger to those you care about." I felt like I was slapped in the face. The wanderer had said the same, but Lagertha... I made to storm off, but Aslaug wasn't finished yet. She grabbed hold of my wrist as I tried to get up. "You can't run away from this. You can't hide and hope it'll all go away. As far as any of us is concerned, you practically flaunted around naked in front of that weasel. Honestly, a love song? Those are things kept private, and that's embarrassing enough. Just what kind of place did you come from, thinking that is normal behavior? And with all the things you went through. No wonder you thought all men were beasts, you raised them as such."  
  
"You have no right to judge me. You let your children starve, and don't seem to feel any remorse at all."  
  
"I love my children enough to know to keep them away from snakes."  
  
"But not to keep them from almost drowning. Were you warm and comfortable in another man's arms when it happened?" She turned ashen. I'd never let slip that I knew, and now it was staring her in the face, with angry eyes full of rage.  
  
"You have no right to judge me on my marriage when yours hasn't even started yet." The bench she sat on fell back with a loud bang, and then she stormed off. I fell back to my seat and fought the tears that were coming to the surface. Siggy would tell me to keep those for when I was with Bjorn. I couldn't cry after every fight with Aslaug, even if she accused me of such horrible things.  
  
After a minute I took a deep breath and got up, determined to go home. I wanted to be alone for a bit, I'd had enough of Viking life for today. I was aching for the quiet calm of home, where everything made sense. Even that small kindness wasn't granted to me.  
  
As soon as I came home I saw Bjorn and Floki look up. Bjorn immediately got to his feet, he could see I'd been emotional about something.  
  
"What happened?" he asked softly.  
  
"I had a fight with Aslaug," I mumbled as I let him take me in his arms. I heard Floki get up and leave, giving us some privacy.  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Everything. She told me I was a whore, and I called her a cheater."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" I sighed as I let go of Bjorn and sat down on a chair.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Do you want to talk without my saying anything?" I scoffed, then shook my head.  
  
"It's nothing..." Bjorn sat down next to me, taking my hand in his.  
  
"Ragnhild, I want to be here for you, but I can't do that if you won't talk to me. I've been very busy lately, and I know how hard that is on you, but I can't just drop everything to take care of you when you need me. So I'll ask again, now I do have some time. Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"I don't want to get mad at you. You've been doing so much, and you do what you can to help me. I don't want to get into a fight right now."  
  
"And I don't want to fall asleep next to you tonight and know you're mad at me. I can guess what this is about."  
  
"Then we don't really need to talk about it, do we?' I said as I pulled back my hand.  
  
"We do. I can have the fight by myself, if you just want to sit back. You're mad at me for not telling you about the song and what it must have meant to Erlendur." I raised an eyebrow, wondering how he'd continue. "You'll tell me how you wanted to know before it had even happened, and then I'll throw back that you never used to sing in public at all, much less told anyone what the songs meant. I know they are one of the few things you have from back home and I didn't want to take them away from you without a good reason." I opened my mouth, but Bjorn held up a hand. "You now want to tell me I should've told you anyway, and I'll apologize for that, but in fact I'll be mad at you for even sharing something that I considered to be just ours with someone you hardly knew. I told you I liked it when you sing to me, only me, especially when I just wake up from being shot in the back." I huffed a bit, realizing Bjorn had already put much thought into all of this.  
  
"And then what?"  
  
"I'll calm you by saying Aslaug overreacted, and it doesn't make you a whore, or a harlot, or promiscuous. It's frowned upon, because it's so personal. In fact, the only one that openly admits to liking those sort of things is Freyja, whose name you took when you married me. So, tell me how I'm doing so far." I tried to think of something to say, but he'd taken the words right out of my mouth.  
  
"I only made it worse by shouting at Aslaug, didn't I?" I looked down at my belly, stroking it through the fabric.  
  
"I imagine I haven't heard the last of it. And I'll be the first to say it was because of your pregnancy, even though I know you think that's bullshit." I chuckled softly as I realized he was right. He knew me, and he knew how this world worked. And somehow, somewhere along the line, he'd gotten very good at realizing what must have been going on in my head.  
  
"There's only one thing you left out," I said, hesitating to even bring it up. "Aslaug told me... She mentioned your mother thought I was a danger to those around me."  
  
"And to me she said I should've told you about it, so you wouldn't have brought this all on us. She didn't use those words, and it's all much more nuanced than Aslaug made it out to be. Now, can I safely assume we had our fight, and we're fine again?"  
  
"We're not. Fine, that is." Bjorn's worried look didn't change.  
  
"And what isn't fine?"  
  
"Erlendur."  
  
"That's not something you need to worry about. When he comes back, we'll deal with him."  
  
"It's not that. Well, not all of it. You only made that decision because of me. I'm keeping you from doing what needs to be done." Bjorn took hold of my hands, and only now I realized I had been playing with my wedding band.  
  
"Don't go there. Don't go dark and twisty on me now. I need you, Ragnhild. I made a mistake, and I learned from it. We move on and do better next time."  
  
"You're making too much sense," I muttered. "When did you get so wise?" I looked up, but Bjorn wasn't smiling. He was still looking at me, very intently. Having to rule forced him to grow more serious. I would have to move past my disdain for Aslaug if I wanted to keep supporting Bjorn. Taking care of the house and keeping him up to date on what I heard through the traders was no longer enough.  
  
"Try and get some sleep, okay? I have to go see what Aslaug is up to." Right, he still had things to do. Problems to solve that I had caused.  
  
"I will. I'm sorry for making this even worse on you."  
  
"This fight was coming, one way or another. I'm just glad you didn't start shouting at me." Bjorn leaned back, his face growing a little more relaxed.  
  
"I'm not the only one that could use a day off, from the looks of it. Do you have time to relax tonight?"  
  
"I still have so much to do, even if I moved around a few things I wouldn't be able to get comfortable. Aslaug really made a mess of things."  
  
"If there's anything I can do to help..."  
  
"Try and take care of yourself a little better. Knowing where you are and that you're safe makes it a lot easier to deal with all the rest." I had the shortest flashback to the previous man that told me such things, but Bjorn wasn't him. Bjorn meant it, and just wanted to take care of me.  
  
"Then I'll stay in tonight. Wake me up when you get in, okay? Otherwise I'll worry about you."  
  
"I will." Bjorn got up and kissed me, just a short peck on the cheek before he left. As the door fell shut, I instantly worried. Bjorn was almost as tired as me, and he was a lot less able to get the sleep he needed. I just hoped he'd be able to get some rest soon, because I feared what would happen if he wouldn't.  
  
Bjorn was still out when I woke up from my nap. I got up and made myself something to eat, trying to stretch my back as I did. As I let my hand slide over my belly, I tried to work out the math again. I couldn't understand how I hadn't figured out I was pregnant for almost four moons before I found out.  
  
I'd felt the baby move on the boat for the first time, and that could happen from around four moons. I must have gotten pregnant in April, when I was working on the trebuchets with Floki. The alternative was being five moons pregnant, as we hadn’t been able to have sex on the boat, but that was impossible. At five months I shouldn’t have had this much back aches, and I wouldn't have felt the baby kick that early. But if I was six moons along, I had bled a little during the first two periods, which sounded like a lot. Aslaug had told me to only expect one child, so it couldn't be twins. I had made sure to ask about that. Even with some charcoal to write down notes I had trouble pinpointing when it had all happened. The closest I got was figuring out I'd give birth somewhere past Yol.  
  
Whatever it was, this baby was coming out nearly full-grown. I should've known, with Bjorn being as tall and broad as he was. I gave up on trying to make sense of it, and instead focused on eating something. All I really wanted was a burger and fries, and bacon dripping in chocolate. The only thing managing to distract me from my cravings were a map Bjorn must have left and the charcoal. I started doodling on the table, trying to fix all the mistakes I could find on the map. There were several islands missing from the Mediterranean, and the coastline of Portugal was drawn highly crude. If... Portugal even existed yet. At least the land couldn't be terribly different from how I knew it.  
  
After getting stuck on Italy I gave up. My plate was still half full, but I wasn't hungry anymore. Forcing anything down would only make me feel sick. I cleaned it all up before Bjorn could see, he'd just have another thing to be worried about if he thought I wasn't eating enough. I felt the urge to go out for a walk, but I'd promised Bjorn I would stay in. It made me feel trapped, not even being able to send a message, or leave him a note in case he got back before me. I had to settle for opening one of the shutters, letting a cool breeze come in.  
  
My mind wandered to Bjorn again. I wanted to know what he was working on, I hardly knew what it was that kept him up at night. And at the same time, he knew me so well he could run through our fights in his head. Perhaps I should just try and do something nice for him. I still had some yarn, and a half-finished scarf I'd meant to have done when there was still snow last time.  
  
I got out my stuff and lay down on the bed. It was incredibly peaceful to do something with my hands, and every time my oaken pens hit my ring it made me smile. Here I was, on a weekend night, knitting a scarf for my fiancée. Only three years ago the mere thought would have made me gag.  
  
After a few hours I was growing a bit bored and more than a little tired, but I had almost finished. Bjorn still hadn't come in, and I really wanted to fall asleep in his arms. I pushed on, moving only slowly as to not make any mistakes I'd have to get out. The triangle was getting more and more complete, and as the rows I had to knit grew shorter, so did my attention span. Still, I pushed on.  
  
I jumped up as I heard Bjorn's voice.  
  
"I thought you were going to sleep."  
  
"I just want to finish this, I'm almost done. Give me... Five minutes." Bjorn sighed, and I returned my attention to my work. I heard him sit down.  
  
"What are you even making? I haven't seen you do that knotting thing for ages."  
  
"It's a scarf." I was down to the last few stitches already now that Bjorn was here to keep me alert.  
  
"Why would you spend so much time on it, anyway? Did you remember to eat something?"  
  
"Yes, and because it's fun. Do you like the color?" I cast off the last stitch and tore through the string with my teeth. It took a little effort, but with the end snugly fitted in, it was done. "I made it for you. Do you like it?" I held it up for Bjorn to see, but his eyes were locked on the table.  
  
"You found the map," he said in a deadpan voice.  
  
"Err... Yeah. You left it here. Where did you even get it?"  
  
"From Paris. Why did you draw another one on the table with a lot more details?" I felt my tiredness disappear completely. Oh shit. Bjorn shot a glance at me. Panic came to the surface. I felt my breath growing ragged, my body started to tremble. I wouldn't be able to get away with this saying what I always said.  
  
"Ragnhild. Look at me." Tears came up, dark clouds took form in my mind. This was it. It was over. I had been found out. They would kill me. I blew it, my second chance. I would lose everything I had found here. I couldn't breathe. My clothes felt too tight, Bjorn was too close, my eyes burned. I couldn't breathe. Something touched my cheek. A voice called out, I couldn't breathe. They would kill me. I would die. My body grew cold. I started to shake. This was it. This was it. They would kill me. I deserved to die.  
  
Everything went dark.


	98. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-09-802

I opened my eyes. My body felt sore, aching all over. Bjorn. Where was my Viking? I glanced around and found him sitting at the table. His head rested on top of his arms. He had fallen asleep, snoring softly. What happened last night? I remembered finally finishing that blasted scarf, and then... a panic attack. Caused by... that map. Groaning to myself, the memories came back.  
  
Bjorn deserved better than to have me lying to him for the rest of our lives. As much as I told myself I trusted him with my life, that wasn’t true. I would never know for sure if he would be able to accept where I came from unless I told him, but I could believe in him. I wanted to tell him before we would get married, before our child was born. Having him feel trapped because of either of those things wasn’t how I wanted to live my life, and eventually someone would figure it out. He deserved to hear it from me.  
  
Moreover, he was one of the few people I could trust. I had to hold onto that, he loved me beyond all reason. He could fight our fights by himself, he talked to our child every chance he got, he wouldn’t hurt me, ever. He would defy the gods for me. I got up and walked over to Bjorn and sat down next to him.  
  
"Bjorn? Honey, wake up." He raised his head in a start, confused I was sitting next to him. When our eyes met, he took me in his arms.  
  
"You scared me. Are you okay?" He grabbed my face with his hands, touching his head to mine. I grabbed hold of his forearms, closing my eyes for a moment and sighing.  
  
"I'm fine. I'm sorry I caused you to worry. I'm okay now. Just a bit stiff, that's all." Bjorn kissed me on the forehead.  
  
"I thought I'd lost you, and our child. What happened? Even Vinh didn't know what to do. No one did. You weren't bleeding."  
  
"I panicked. I was so worried and afraid, I lost it."  
  
"You got so scared you blacked out? Why?" I bit my lip.  
  
"The map. I was afraid of your question. I didn't know what to say or how you would react."  
  
"How can a question make you feel that kind of fear?" I pulled his hands down into my lap, thinking of what to say next.  
  
"I... I was scared, because... I thought you'd kill me." Bjorn hid his surprise well.  
  
"Why would I ever want to kill you? I love you." Bjorn was still incredibly worried about me. He already had so much to worry about, and I saw he must have been up most of the night. He was tired. Keeping him in the dark would only make him worry more. I had to tell him, now. Swallowing back tears, I made a decision based on faith.  
  
"I will answer your question. But you must promise me, everything I say will stay between us. No one else can hear of this. Promise me. Swear it on the gods. Swear it to everything you hold dear."  
  
"I swear it on all the gods, and all I hold dear. I swear it on my love for you, and our child." He didn't even blink. "Ragnhild, please tell me."  
  
"You know how I'm not from around here? That I just appeared one day, naked as on the day I was born?"  
  
"I know all this, why does it matter?"  
  
"Because it does. I understand why I am here. As in, I know why I appeared at that lake. I was there, I was swimming. When I got out of the water, I slipped on a rock and hit my head. My location didn't change." Bjorn looked as if he didn't understand, despite the fact I was using words he knew.  
  
"When I woke up, I was still in the same place. The only thing that changed was... How do I say this? The where remained the same, but the when did change. I come from a different time. I still don't understand why I am here."  
  
"Floki was right, you make no sense. Why won't you tell me the truth?" Bjorn's eyes wore a look of disappointment. My heart sank.  
  
"It is the truth. I was born in Frisia, but it's nothing like you saw when you were there. It's - I don't even know how to explain. I haven't been born yet. I come from the future. In that time, travel takes less time. In a couple of hours, I could go from Norway to England, or Francia, or Andalusia. We could fly through the sky in big metal birdlike things. That is why I know all those details. I've been to most of the countries on that map. There were - will be - magical moving boxes that show us things from around the world. About politics, about nature, about other people. We can talk to people on the other side of the world, having a normal conversation just like we are having now. We can send ships flying to travel the stars." Bjorn stared at me, lost for words. "I know it's a lot to take in, but you have to believe me. People will do amazing things. The world is going to change so much. How else could I know so much about weird things, but used to know hardly anything about how to live here?" He had to understand, I couldn't bear having him think me a liar. He now refused to look at me, rubbing his hands over his face and head.  
  
"I spoke no language that is known today, because language changes over time." I talked and talked, all the while Bjorn remaining silent, staring at the map on the table. I told him of the things I missed, the things I just knew because I learned in school. He was listening, but I felt like he barely understood what I was saying. It must have been an hour by the time he finally spoke up.  
  
"Father woke up last night. I have to go see him." He made to get up, but I clutched his arm.  
  
"Bjorn, please. I need to know if you believe me. I need to know you're okay with this." He pulled back his arm and left me behind. I broke down crying, not knowing what was right or wrong anymore. Would I get arrested, and then be killed? Or just ran out of town, pregnant as I was?  
  
None of it mattered, if I'd lose Bjorn. He was the reason I had started to live, and the reason I was able to handle this fucked up world. I would never make it without him. There was nothing to do now but to wait. I couldn't run, or hide, or do or say anything that might make it more likely I'd make it through the winter.  
  
On top of it all, my belly started to cramp. I had to force my body to relax, and as I went back to bed I realized this all had been a mistake. Everything about this had gone wrong. Panic started to rise again, and I had to puff to get rid of it. I had to focus on my child, and the cramping I felt.  
  
As the door opened my eyes shot over, and I had trouble keeping my breathing going as I saw it was Aslaug.  
  
"Ragnhild, what -"  
  
"Stay the fuck away from me." She came in and sat down on the bed beside me.  
  
"Are you in labor?" Her voice was urgent, much to my surprise.  
  
"Labor? No, it's just some cramping." Her hands felt around my belly, and after a few seconds she let out a satisfied hum.  
  
"Fake contractions. Usually women panic when they feel them."  
  
"Well, I didn't. Now get the fuck out."  
  
"I won't. We need to talk." I tried to get up, but Aslaug pushed me down by my shoulder.  
  
"Stay put, you'll only make it worse. This isn't about what happened over the summer. It's about what you told Bjorn." Had he told her? Was she here to put me at ease before I was being dragged off? "Relax, Ragnhild. You'll only make the cramping get worse. Bjorn didn't tell anyone, but I need to ask you a question." Her words did little to comfort me.  
  
"No. Get out. I won't ask again."  
  
"How many years?"  
  
"That's it, Aslaug. Get out, now." I tried to get up again, but Aslaug blocked my path with an arm.  
  
"How many years between now, and where you come from?" I froze as I realized what she was asking me.  
  
"How did you..."  
  
"Answer me, and I'll tell you why you are here." I sat back down on the bed, leaning back a bit to make room for my belly.  
  
"I - 1216. Give or take a few moons." At the least, Aslaug was now just as blown away as I was.  
  
"A land we can't hope to reach for over a thousand years..." She scoffed as she realized what I'd meant with that. "Just fantastic."  
  
"The kingdom doesn't exist for a thousand years. Give or take a few decades."  
  
"And how many Viking are left? Give or take a few thousand?"  
  
"It's my turn to ask questions," I said.  
  
"Then tell me, are the Viking extinct? Because if the answer is yes, that's the reason you're here." Just what did she… I couldn’t even think of a question. I only felt confusion.  
  
"They're all gone. Christianity wiped you out." She closed her eyes for a second, then took a deep breath.  
  
"I had a vision of how that would happen. I saw death and destruction. I saw Viking who weren't Viking. I saw the end of our people. Then I asked the gods to send us someone to prevent that from happening."  
  
"Am I here to change that? Do you expect me to prevent the downfall of the Viking?"  
  
"That is for the gods to decide. Freyja has answered my prayers, surely you as her vessel know more of her will than I do."  
  
"What, do you expect me to talk to her? Do you think we regularly share a drink while we talk about our lives? Are you insane?" I had to do my best to keep down my temper. The cramps were finally dying down a bit.  
  
"The gods do as they please. I asked for wisdom and got a woman with wisdom, but not enough knowledge to do something with it. I asked for someone with life after death, asking for someone who must surely have spent time with the gods. And all I got was you."  
  
"Well, I'm so sorry the gods have disappointed you. That makes two of us." I got up and managed to leave the bed this time, and without looking back I walked out. I didn't even want to see her face. Out of habit I made my way to the hall, but I'd not realized Bjorn would be there, as well. I slowed down as I saw his eyes trying to meet mine.  
  
I wanted him to wrap his big arms around me, to hold me tight and whisper in my ear that he still loved me. I needed him to tell me everything was going to be okay.  
  
"Bjorn. Are you... Is everything alright?" I didn't dare meet his eyes.  
  
"I don't know. I need time." He moved in front of me, placing his hands on my arms.  
  
"I understand. If you have any questions, I -"  
  
"I need time alone,” he clarified. “There is a cabin up north. I'll spend the winter there." My eyes shot up to meet his.  
  
"What? You - you're leaving? You only just got back." I wanted to shout at him, but that would only make it worse.  
  
"You don't understand, I have to do this." I knew that stubborn look on his face. I sighed, accepting his decision. I couldn’t expect him to just be fine with it. He pulled me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head as he often did. He needed to deal with what I had told him in his way. Pushing him in any direction would only push him away from me.  
  
"If you die out there, I will kill you," I said more out of tradition than anything else. It had worked in Paris, so it must bring him luck now, as well. At least he still felt comfortable touching me.  
  
“I’m not leaving today, I need some time to prepare. Just…”  
  
“I won’t mention it unless you want to talk about it. I said enough for now.”  
  
"Ragnhild." It was Aslaug's voice. Instinctively I put a hand around my bump, not wanting her to even get near our child.  
  
"I told you to leave me be." I said, not looking back. Bjorn sighed and let go of me, then left the hall. I felt tears coming back to the surface again.  
  
"Just how much did I miss?" Ragnar eyed me warily, not knowing what to make of what he must have heard and seen today. He looked ghastly, but I was too occupied in my mind to really care.  
  
"Ask your darling wife." I left the hall as well, and now didn't know where to go.


	99. Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-09-802

The village had reacted shocked at Bjorn's decision to spend the winter out in the Interior. Some people whispered it was because he found out I had been unfaithful, while others seemed to think I had forced him out of the house, and this was Bjorn’s way of covering it up. Ragnar thought him stupid for even wanting to try and live out in the Interior, thinking for sure he would die. Still, he wished his oldest son luck.   
  
I watched them say goodbye. It was a bit painful to watch. Bjorn was the stronger one in every possible way, but he looked weaker than ever. Whatever it was that he hoped to find out there, he would need it to survive. One last look in my direction, his eyes full of doubt and uncertainty, and Bjorn went off.   
  
"What did you tell him to make him leave you like this?" Ragnar asked in a soft voice.   
  
"I told him the truth." I didn't have to look at him to know Ragnar was staring at me. My eyes were fixated on my belly, and my mind was convincing my heart to not run after my husband. It felt like he was walking out on me, and our child. But he had asked me for space, and I couldn’t deny him.   
  
"Was the answer really that hard to take?"   
  
"I guess it was. I have lived with it for so long, I can't imagine how it must affect him. To me, it's a part of my life. To him... I turned his entire world upside down,” I said as I looked up again, my feet eager to get moving. Despite my belly I could still reach a fair speed. I could still catch up to Bjorn.   
  
"I'm surprised you let him go so easily. I thought you'd fight him more." If Ragnar thought it was easy for me, he was blind. I wouldn’t see Bjorn for moons, that much I knew. I would be lucky if he made it back before the baby was born. I had to be strong.   
  
"What good will it do me? He made up his mind. I don't resent him. I'll miss him, but this is something he needs to do for himself. He'll come back stronger. He'll come back to me. He has to." As Bjorn's form shrank, I felt the need to run after him again. I wanted to drag him back, chain him up and force him to understand. Instead, I let Ragnar put an arm around me. He leaned on me as he did, having trouble to keep balance on the walking stick he used to get around.   
  
"Bjorn told me you feel tired a lot. If you ever need anything, you just have to ask."   
  
"Thank you, Ragnar. I'm sure I'll take you up on that." We walked to the ledge Ragnar enjoyed sitting on, watching life in the town pass by before his eyes. Floki was still chained to the post. I wanted to feel bad for him, but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Ragnar had ordered him to be arrested as soon as he was able to speak a full sentence, apparently. He had known he was the one to kill Athelstan, and had just wanted to wait until we were back here for him to get his just reward.   
  
"Ragnhild," I heard Aslaug say.   
  
"No." Judging by the footsteps walking away from us, she had gone away.   
  
"Do I want to know?" Ragnar asked.   
  
"Do you feel like surviving the winter in the interior?" He leaned back in his seat. Floki was staring our way, most likely locking eyes with Ragnar. The king was still more upset over losing Athelstan than I was, something I didn't really know how to place. Some part of me thought it was because I hadn't taken the time to grieve for Athelstan, or Siggy for that matter, but another part of me wasn't so sure.   
  
"You have the most peculiar effect on those around you," he said out of nowhere. I was in no mood to talk about myself.   
  
"What are you planning on doing with Floki?" I asked. I spotted Idu running around, looking for something frantically.   
  
"I don't know. I just want to know why he did it."   
  
"Isn't that obvious? How many times has he warned you about Athelstan's influence on you? It's no secret he hated the priest. Is it so hard to imagine him loving you so much he wanted to kill the priest to keep you close? You do have the most peculiar effect on those around you." A soft bleating made me look down. Happy was standing in front of me. I had to laugh a bit, wondering how he had gotten loose. I pulled him up beside me and started petting him. He put his front legs in my lap and lay down.   
  
"I guess we know what she's looking for," Ragnar said. "Do you think we should tell her?" I felt content having something to pet.   
  
"Nah, she'll find out eventually." The girl was looking in the most ridiculous places, opening barrels and looking under tables. Happy always had preferred being on top of things. If anything, she should be checking the rooftops. "I must say, I'm surprised Happy's still around." Ragnar showed me a wan smile.   
  
"Siggy told us how much you love him. If we had another choice, we were to spare him." I had to scoff at that. "You don't believe me? Siggy was very adamant about it. She cared for you as if you were her daughter." Usually, hearing such things gave me great comfort. Only rarely did I hear how much I meant to my friends, only Bjorn and the boys were very open with me about it. But now, hearing how much Siggy loved me, I felt nothing.   
  
"I always thought of her as a sister. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore. She’s gone, and I’m not. Life goes on." I caught Ragnar looking at me with a surprised look.   
  
"Paris has changed you. I've never known you to be so... Compared to how fierce you were before, I'd almost call it indifferent about those you have lost. Should I be worried?"   
  
"Honestly, I think it's the baby. I just don't have the energy. And especially after that whole thing with Erlendur, I feel like I have to accept things are different here. Trying to fight things like that won't do me any good."   
  
"Then it's not just the baby that has changed you." We sat in silence for a while. We watched Helga kneel down next to Floki, wrapping a cloak around him. It tore at my heart. If it were Bjorn sitting there, I'd try and make it better for him, too.   
  
"She's with child," I realized as I spoke the words. I glanced up and saw Ragnar stare at me again.   
  
"How do you know?"   
  
"It's something about the way she carries herself. I can see it in her eyes. It's not just desperation for fear of losing the man she loves, it's like she needs him to survive. She never gave off this dependent vibe before." In this, Helga was the opposite of me. I had felt dependent on Bjorn before he was gone, thinking I needed him to breathe. But now push had come to shove, my lungs filled with air just fine.   
  
Happy got up, having had enough of my affection. He jumped off the ledge and walked up to Floki, licking some spoiled vegetable goo off his face. Idu saw it happen and tried to catch Happy, but he was too fast and strong for the girl. Happy seemed to enjoy the chase, flying from one end of the square to the other. More people had noticed, looking on as the girl grew ever more frustrated.   
  
"I didn't know they were trying for a child. Floki was always against it, for some reason."   
  
"They decided on it the day I left the raid. Helga told me, she was over the moon. I suppose the gods saw fit to bless them." Regardless of what he had done, but I left that part unsaid.   
  
"He was torn from having his babies used against him. I can recall how cracked he was, when he'd failed. Back then he said the gods had abandoned him."   
  
"It was a dick move, putting him in charge like that," I chided.   
  
"I had to do something. Horik was adamant about taking over from me. I couldn't let him."   
  
"I know, but still. You had plenty of earls with you."   
  
"You know most of them are worthless. They're not the same breed as we are." I slowly turned my head around to see if Ragnar was being serious. "Oh, you know what I mean. They don't have the blood of Odin in their veins." He waved his hand as if to swat at a fly.   
  
"Yes, you mentioned that a few times. How can you even be sure?"   
  
"My father told me, as his father before. What, you don't believe it's true? Have you not seen for yourself what kind of man Bjorn is?"   
  
"I do. It just leaves me wondering where Rollo's drop has gone."   
  
"Not all in our line are destined for greatness," Ragnar admitted. I knew that look in his eyes.   
  
"I thought you had made your peace with Ivar," I said, more carefully now.   
  
"I was starting to, until I woke up. Bjorn told me of the hardships you had to face here, and what he had to clear up after you took care of the boys and the hall. He told me you did well, having some merchants go out of their way to get us enough grain." That had been a good idea, but I couldn't feel glad about it. There had been plenty I had been afraid to touch and had to leave to Bjorn.   
  
"Do you blame her for what happened to Siggy?" I asked.   
  
"I blame her for being neither a mother nor a queen."   
  
"Ragnar..." I didn’t know what to make of this. He was angry at her because she had cheated on him, and he had every right to be mad at that. But it started to interfere with how he ran the kingdom. Bjorn had stayed long enough to make sure his father was up to speed about everything, but Ragnar hadn’t even attempted to try and fix what still needed to be taken care of. Aside from arresting Floki, he had only thrown himself one pity party after the next.   
  
I needed to get away from Ragnar for a bit and got up to help Idu. Happy tried to make me chase after him as well, but I grabbed him by the horns and made him stand still. The girl approached and seemed thankful for my help.   
  
"This one's always been a heap of trouble," I said. "He loves to make you run around."   
  
"Thank you," the girl said with a bow. Looking at her face up close, I could hazard a fair guess as to where she came from.   
  
"You're from China, aren't you?" I asked as I started bringing Happy back to the pen.   
  
"How do you know?" she asked with a hint of wonder.   
  
"I just know things. That's what I am known for." After I put Happy back in the pen I took hold of her hands. There was barely any calloused skin on her fingers. She had probably been a nobleman's daughter before she had been turned into a slave.   
  
"Have you had many masters? Is it better here than where you were before?"   
  
"Does it matter? A slave is a slave."   
  
"A slave can be used for chores, or for satisfaction. You are either being worked to the bone, or you have enough food and rest to keep your sanity." She looked at me warily, not knowing what to make of me.   
  
"It is better here," she admitted.   
  
"It'll get easier. It did for me." On my way back to the ledge, I passed by Helga and Floki. His eyes looked up to me, desperate for some form of recognition. I barely recognized him, he'd never looked this pitiful.   
  
"Floki," I sighed as I went to my knees. "What have they done to you?" He closed his eyes as I touched the side of his face.   
  
"They abandoned me, Ragnhild. Save for Helga, I am alone. The gods have deserted me." Helga gave me a pitiful look. She hadn't dared tell Floki about the child yet.   
  
"You make no sense," I told him, much to his surprise. "You keep yapping on and on about the gods, and keep giving them sacrifices, and tell of their might, and you really think they would leave you to the wolves? Can’t you see? They are not punishing you, they are testing you. They want to see if you are worthy of their blessings."   
  
"You can't know that. You do not believe in them as we do."   
  
"You believe in them enough for the both of us." I softly pressed my lips up to his forehead.   
  
"Save your blessings. You will need them now that Bjorn has gone." He tried to reach out to my belly, but the heavy chains kept him from touching me.   
  
"Bjorn will return to the fold, as will you." I slowly got up and made my way back to Ragnar. He gave me a curious look, but I didn't open my mouth until I was seated next to him. "I think I scared your servant," I said with a smile.   
  
"You seem to enjoy that."   
  
"Maybe I do. Would that be a bad thing?"   
  
"What did you tell her?"   
  
"I made her realize it's not as bad here as elsewhere. She used to be well taken care of. She's resigned herself to her fate, but she is miserable. I'd keep a close eye on her. Misery loves company."   
  
"If you say so... Still, I wonder what else is different about you. You've never been so curt with my wife, either." His eyes turned to me, he was dying to find out just what had happened between us.   
  
"She's done something, and I'm still deciding if it's unforgivable or not." I pulled my cloak a little tighter as a cold breeze came in. It was one of those winds that told us the snows would be coming soon.   
  
"But you won't tell me what it is?" he asked.   
  
"No, I won't. There's some things I... Never mind. I'm a little confused, to say the least." I shook my head, trying to shake out the confusion.   
  
"And with Bjorn gone, you feel like you have to figure it out by yourself. Then I suggest you talk to Aslaug. She might be the only one to give you some answers. Who knows when Bjorn will return." I sighed, then looked up at Ragnar. He kept his eyes on Floki.   
  
"I can't talk to her without screaming yet. Maybe in a few days."   
  
"And Floki? Did you tell him that it's not that bad being chained to a pole?" I knew he would want to get back to that. Ragnar leaned forward, using his stick to keep from falling over.   
  
"I told him what he needed to hear," I said.   
  
"He doesn't look very comforted to me."   
  
"He doesn't need comfort. He needs you to forgive him for killing our friend."   
  
"Were you? Friends? He told me some choice things about you after you had that fight on the beach." He was trying to bait me, poorly. I didn't dignify it with a response of any kind. "He told me you were a sinner, and that you would only cause death and destruction."   
  
"Was that before or after the wanderer came here?"   
  
"Before. Afterwards he told me he wouldn't come with. He couldn't stand by to watch his fellow Christians get slaughtered, he said." I would have to wait until spring at least to go up to Athelstan’s grave. Ragnar wasn't strong enough to make the trip yet, and when he would be, I would be far too pregnant.   
  
"That's a stupid thing to say. They would've died anyway, staying here to avoid seeing it is just cowardice."   
  
"He told me you were the one that was scared. He tried to tell me you were running away from all the things that had happened, with Kalf, and Jorgenson." That seemed like a lifetime ago.   
  
"Then he was mistaken. I am no longer afraid of my past, or of the future. I just worry about having to face it alone, without Bjorn." The little we had talked about before Bjorn left was about our relationship. His last words to me had been that he hoped that we both would grow stronger in the time he spent away. I was to keep wearing my ring.   
  
"You could still run after him," Ragnar offered. It was tempting, but it would only prove his point. I would have to learn to trust on my friends more, the ones I knew already.   
  
"I need him, that much is true. But it won't do to force him to stay here. I'd rather not speak of it." It was too painful to say it out loud. I was determined to make Bjorn and I work, and so was he. Otherwise he wouldn't have wanted us to keep wearing our rings. He would come back, and he still loved me.   
  
"Ragnhild?" I met Ragnar's eyes. "You're sounding so much like one of us, you're making me wonder. Just what happened while I was asleep?"   
  
"Nothing." He raised an eyebrow. "Everything. Siggy is now gone, as is her girl, Bjorn has left me, I'm with child, I can't stand the sight of your wife, you hold one of my few friends chained to a pole, and even you have grown distant. I'm alone, that's what's wrong. I've been here for two and a half years, and all I have to show for it is a title that causes me more grief than happiness, and the possibility of me raising a child by myself. I'm alone, and lost, and I don't have anyone to turn to."   
  
"You have me." He sounded somewhat offended.   
  
"Look at yourself. You're still recovering, and you look even more tired than I feel. You are letting yourself get consumed by hate, making you blind to everything else. Have you even noticed what Bjorn has done to keep Kattegat going? Have you any idea how bad it was when I returned? Did you even think to ask? You haven't even congratulated me on our engagement yet."   
  
"I was a bit busy," he huffed.   
  
"You're not busy, you're distracted. Did you truly mean it when you said I could ask you for help? Then get that walking stick out of your ass and get a fucking grip. We can't crack, and I need you to keep from cracking." He was furious with me. Downright pissed, and he couldn't say anything to put me in my place. With a child growing in my belly he would make a monster out of himself if he did anything to me, or said the wrong thing.   
  
"I am the king," he said in a threatening voice. "What I say goes."   
  
"Have you not always listened to my counsel? I heard what happened after I left. You can't just lay down the law and have your every whim satisfied. If you fuck up, you can be certain I'll give you an earful. And the truth is that you haven't been told no in a long time. You can't rule Kattegat alone, and you will need me and Floki to help you. So open your goddamn eyes and be the king that we need, not the king that you want to be. Because this king in front of me is just a dick." I got up, feeling I was getting so angry that whatever came out of my mouth next would just be an insult meant to hurt. Already I had pushed my own grief out instead of focusing on his being distracted.   
  
"Ragnhild..."   
  
"There’s nothing more to say." He reached out to grab my wrist.   
  
"Is that really how you feel?" I'd misjudged his tone. It had come out harsh, but his eyes were vulnerable.   
  
"It is. It may have come out a bit harder than I wanted to, but... I feel like you're on a turning point, and you have to decide where to go. You have every right to feel the way you feel, but don't let those feelings overtake you. We're all in deep shit if you do. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pee."


	100. Floki's Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 08-10-802

A few weeks later I found myself unable to stay awake past noon. The sleepless nights didn't help one bit. A pile of laundry was stacking up, some of it Bjorn's. I avoided looking at it, but it did little to decrease the load. I'd have to spend two full days to get rid of it, but judging by the way thinking of Bjorn ached my heart, it would take even longer. As I glanced around the house, there were more and more chores piling up. If I didn't want to drown, I'd have to ask for help. After my nap, I'd go visit the hall. It had been a few days since I even went out.  
  
As I saw Ragnar sitting on his ledge, I realized he was furious at something. I decided to walk past him and leave him to his thinking. I went on to the hall and was greeted by silence.  
  
"Aslaug?" I called. We had come to a grudging understanding after Bjorn had left, but I was still cautious not to talk to her too much. With Ragnar seeming to be wanted to be left alone, I had to ask her for help, though.  
  
"Ragnhild? Is that you?" she asked from behind the curtains. I moved past them and saw Aslaug sitting on her bed. Her cheek was burning red.  
  
"Aslaug... What happened?" I sat down next to her and saw the mark covered most of her cheek. It had to have been fresh. "Who did this to you?" She kept her eyes downcast, not wanting to answer. Thinking back to how I saw Ragnar sitting, it wasn't difficult to put it together. I put an arm around her. She closed her eyes, close to tears. Her arms wrapped around me and I couldn't help but feel silly about my own worries over laundry and housekeeping.  
  
"It's okay," I whispered. "You're allowed to feel like crap." I thought she'd break down and cry her heart out, but instead she let go of me and took a deep breath. She hadn't shed a tear. I wasn’t sure if this was strength or avoidance.  
  
"Thank you," she said just a bit too cheerful. "Is there anything you need? Ragnar told me you might need some help, soon." I bit my lip, not sure if I should bring it up at a time like this. But Aslaug was intent on not discussing the handprint on her face, so I ignored it as well.  
  
“I’m so tired all the time, I barely manage to keep the house clean. Could you lend me a servant so I can catch up on everything? It's the laundry, mostly..." Remembering Bjorn's things amongst my own was enough to make me sad again.  
  
"You're not ready to face the fact he's gone. You can barely look at his things. I'll see if I can send someone to come by tomorrow." I doubted if she had ever had to do her own laundry, but I was grateful she seemed to understand.  
  
"How do you know?" I asked. Aslaug showed me a careful smile.  
  
"I was young and in love once. When I came here I had only Ragnar to support me. People were kind enough because of me carrying his child, but I had to fight my way out of Lagertha’s shadow. The first time he went raiding again Ubbe was only a few weeks old. I was terrified he would die, and what would become of me." Aslaug hardly seemed like the romantic type, it was strange to hear her talk about Ragnar like this. They had been married for a few years when I got here, I had gotten to know them as strong individuals.  
  
Bjorn had told me plenty of how life had been when he still lived here with his mother, but the few years before I came here were not spoken of often. Even Siggy and Helga had seemed loath to talk about it now that I thought back. Siggy had lost her first husband, Helga had spent most of her days at the boatyard with Floki… And then, something had changed.  
  
"Thank you, Aslaug." Now that I had been promised help, I felt a feeling of relief wash over me. I'd manage. "Where did the boys run off to? It's almost eerily quiet in here."  
  
"They left to hunt down Floki. He escaped last night." I was more surprised over the boys being sent out than Floki escaping. They were too young to go off chasing after escaped prisoners, even if it was Floki.  
  
"And you let them? Aren't they too young?" Aslaug’s eyes hardened, nothing left of our bonding just a few seconds ago. Perhaps I was a bit quick to judge but after last summer… Who could blame me?  
  
"They insisted, and when I said no Ragnar sent them off anyway. He's been sitting outside since they left."  
  
"How did he escape?"  
  
"I don't know. I didn't care enough to ask. Ragnar's been obsessed with the priest lately, I find it best not to get involved." So that's why Ragnar had hit her. I didn't want to press her on the subject, and she didn't want to talk about it further. I idly wondered what he'd do when he found out she had been cheating on him. "How's it going?" she asked looking at my belly. It was now undeniably visible, and I had been forced to dig around Siggy's maternity dresses. I felt like a pompom in the ornate things, but it was better than having to buy new ones myself.  
  
"I'm mostly just tired all the time. I didn't know it could be so tiring to have something growing inside of me."  
  
"Every child is different. The first three were easy, but Ivar... I remember it hurting as he started moving. Thinking back now, it makes sense. I probably felt the hurt he was going through." That didn't make sense at all, but I couldn't explain it any other way myself.  
  
"So what, my child will be sleeping a lot?"  
  
"Your child will probably have too much energy and keep you awake at all times. You're going to have a handful." I sighed as I once again was confronted with the fact that this pregnancy was only the start of it. If Bjorn didn't make it back, I would have to raise my sweet pea by myself.  
  
"How am I going to survive this? What if Bjorn doesn't make it back before the baby is born? I'm so tired already, how could I ever manage taking care of it when it's constantly crying and keeping me awake?" Aslaug put a hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up at her.  
  
"Worry not. I saw him. He will be back in time. I saw him holding both a boy and a girl. He will stay with you." Glad as I was to hear her say that, I suddenly remembered Aslaug and I still had a lot to talk about. Like how she had begged the gods to send me here. "We both have a lot to worry about right now. I won't mention it until you are ready to hear me tell you."  
  
"The main question I have is why me." I didn't want to look away, but the confusion was just too great. Aslaug asking the gods to send me back through time, then have her prayers answered… I couldn’t comprehend it.  
  
"That is a question I cannot answer. The gods chose you." I got up. No matter how long I would look for answers, it all turned out to be the work of the gods.  
  
"I'll try and stay awake tomorrow,” I said as I got up. “Thank you again for the help."  
  
"If there's anything else you need, just let me know." I knew she meant it, despite the differences we'd had lately. I left Aslaug on her bed and saw Sigurd was being fed by one of the new girls. I wanted to join them and have Sigurd lift my spirits, but I knew he wouldn’t let go of me after he saw me. I was too tired to spend the rest of the day with him.  
  
As I walked out of the hall, Ragnar called out to me. I sat down next to him, watching the square. Despite him calling me over, he waited for me to talk. He wanted to know how I was doing. Walking stick by his side, furs loosely over his shoulders, he was looking stronger than ever. Only his face betrayed that something was still wrong.  
  
"I missed a lot," I said after a while. I leaned back into a support beam, resting a hand on my bump.  
  
"And it seems you took less time asking for help than I'd thought." His eyes slid over to me, approving of yet another change he noticed in me.  
  
"I'm learning," I said, hoping to brush the subject off. Having to live without Bjorn was allowing me to find out who I was without him to cushion me from any blows that came my way. He had refused to talk to me about what I had told him before he left, not even wanting to hear that Aslaug knew about it already. That had been the first blow I had to deal with on my own, then came Floki’s arrest, and the sorrow over having lost Siggy had struck closely after. Still, it was better than to suppress my emotions and turn into a wreck again.  
  
The only witness to my crying fits was the pile of clothes that still smelled like Bjorn, that now lay beside me in bed. Tired as I was, falling asleep without as much as a trace of him was difficult.  
  
"So it seems. Would you mind if Idu comes by? I'm curious to know what else you can find out about her," Ragnar said as he averted his eyes. That pole was mocking him, with the chains dangling loosely in the faint breeze. It was easy for him to pretend Floki was the problem, but in fact, it was much more. The news that Rollo had decided to travel back to Paris to help build a presence there had angered Ragnar as well, and he was saddened over Bjorn’s departure as well.  
  
"As long as she can do the laundry and help me clean up, I don't mind. It'll be good to have someone to talk to. The house is just so quiet."  
  
"Maybe you could take Happy in," he said with a smile.  
  
"And have him chew on all the furs and shit on the floor? I think I'll pass." Ragnar remained silent, staring intently in front of him. When I looked up, I saw what had caught his attention. A group of men was approaching, Hvitserk and Ubbe up front. Soon I could distinguish Floki, looking dripping wet and stubborn. The boys climbed up to the dais, proudly standing beside their father.  
  
"The great Floki," Ragnar spoke. "Captured by mere children. How come the gods didn't protect you? Why did they not try to hide you better from such innocent eyes?" Floki just stared back, shivering from the cold. A length of rope was tied around his body, keeping his arms incapacitated. "Could it be, that they were not interested in saving him, because they are angry with you?" I felt the need to speak up, but I didn't. Ragnar was king now, not my friend. "What do you have to say about that?" Still shaking, Floki turned to look at Helga for a moment. The look of despair in her eyes had only grown.  
  
"I've said it all," Floki said. Ragnar didn't know how to respond. He just sighed and put a hand to his face. He glanced at Helga, then at me.  
  
"Bring him forward please," he said. He made sure Floki wouldn't come too near. "You made me suffer, and now I shall make you suffer. And I've got such a wonderful punishment for you. You'll probably appreciate to see that I've borrowed it from the gods. It's very imaginative, and it goes on... And on... And on... And on... Nothing glowing. No chance to impress the gods." Floki tried his best to seem calm and collected, but a sliver of fear had taken root in his heart. Ragnar sat back, and Floki was taken away. Helga ran after him, wanting to find out what was in store for her husband.  
  
I should’ve been worried about Floki. Any other day I would have gone against him, or ran after the group with Helga, if only to console her, but my heart was aching for other reasons. I couldn’t cover it up by worrying about others, not this time. Having to ask for help felt like admitting defeat, and having to miss Bjorn felt like admitting to losing a part of myself. I could breathe, but I only had one lung.  
  
"You did well, boys. You've made me very proud," Ragnar said. The boys raveled in his praise. It hurt to hear him say it, knowing Bjorn had been aching to hear those exact words after all he did for Kattegat. Even in Paris he had done so much, but aside from Ragnar saying Bjorn did well, he hadn’t gotten any praise from his father. As much as I wanted to set Ragnar straight on it, I knew that Bjorn would know I had something to do with it. This had to come from his father of his own volition, to truly count.  
  
"How did you find Floki?" I asked.  
  
"He was headed into the mountains, but the dogs sniffed him out. We almost passed him by, but I saw he was trying to hide underwater," Ubbe said, standing just a little taller.  
  
"Wow, that was really clever of you," I praised him. The politics of the situation might have been too much to understand for him, but Ubbe had done well.  
  
"How are you doing?" he asked me. He seemed to notice my pregnancy was not going that great.  
  
"I'm tired a lot, so I sleep most of the day. Aslaug thinks my child is draining my energy away from me, with it being so active."  
  
"Then it must be a boy," Ubbe said, very convinced of himself. I let him touch my belly, happy to see he was this invested in his cousin already. Hvitserk didn't want to be left out and rushed to my other side, eager to show just how much more he loved the child already. He put his ear so close he had to hold onto me to keep from falling over. Ragnar and I shared a look.  
  
"Everyone keeps saying that, but I'm certain it will be a girl."  
  
"Why can't it be both?" Hvitserk asked, his face still plastered to my belly.  
  
"Because twins rarely happen, and they rarely both survive," Ragnar explained.  
  
"I know of a mother who gave birth to eight children," I said. "They all survived."  
  
"That's impossible." Ragnar looked astonished.  
  
"Who knows? The gods can do wondrous things. They can make children who are both male and female, they can kill a baby still in the womb. Is it really that difficult to think they might be able to let a mother have eight children at once? Knowing what could happen, I just want my child to be healthy."  
  
"How come you haven't told us about those things?" Ubbe asked warily. "You only tell us of made up things." How old was he now? Had I missed how grown up he already was? He had just turned eight, but sometimes I felt like he was already twelve.  
  
"I didn't think you were old enough. I could tell you stories that will make you feel shivers down your spine. Would you like that?" A grin started to form on his face, but it dissipated as he looked me in the eye.  
  
"Maybe some other time. You look like you need to rest." I smiled at that. Ubbe was definitely more mature than I had thought. "Do you want me to walk you home?" he offered.  
  
"How could I refuse," I replied. I put a hand on Ragnar's shoulder and said goodbye. Ubbe helped me down the ledge, holding onto my hand to help me keep my balance. He was such a little gentleman.  
  
"How did you learn to treat a woman like that?" I asked him when Ragnar and Hvitserk were out of hearing distance.  
  
"I saw what father did to mother. I don't want to be like that. I'd rather be like you and Bjorn." I tried my best to smile, but it hurt. I knew Ubbe was mad at Bjorn for leaving me like this, but still he thought us a better couple than his parents.  
  
"Are they fighting a lot?"  
  
"Yes. They don't seem to love one another as you and Bjorn do."  
  
"Does that bother you?"  
  
"I worry for them." He had been worried for longer, but before I had been hesitant to speak of it.  
  
"Whatever happens, know you have nothing to do with it. They have a lot going on, but your father will always be your father, and your mother will always be your mother."  
  
"I know that. But it's hard." There was more, underneath the surface. I didn't want to drag it out of him if he didn't want to tell me, but I did start to worry a little. He was turning back into the Ubbe that had to take care of his entire family when I was in Paris.  
  
"If you ever want to talk about it, I'll always listen." He kept his eyes on the road as he pushed up his arm a little, making sure I would lean on him.  
  
"Will you tell me stories then?"  
  
"If you ask me adult questions, I'll give you adult answers." He remained silent until we reached my house.  
  
"Will Bjorn be back before Yol?" he asked. That was barely two moons away. Ubbe got me inside and made sure I was seated before he helped me take off my cloak and hung it on a peg.  
  
"He will be back before our child is born. He knows I wouldn't forgive him if he missed it."  
  
"When will that be?" He put his hand on my belly again, but he was worried this time, as if he wanted the child to be born today. If it meant having his brother back… I had been absent so much, I hadn’t noticed how much Ubbe missed his brother.  
  
"Before Valisblot, I imagine. The way this baby is growing, I wouldn't be surprised if it came a moon early."  
  
"You are getting fat," Ubbe admitted. "That dress isn't helping." Had he been a child in my time, I'd be worried for how mature he already seemed. Things were definitely different here. And for the first time, I wondered if that was really such a bad thing.  
  
"Bjorn is so much taller than me, I guess I should have known our baby would be large as well. As for the dresses... These are Siggy's, from when she was carrying Dagmar."  
  
"Isn't that weird? Wearing her clothes?"  
  
"A little," I admitted. Ubbe busied himself making sure the fire was still going strong. I hadn't even known he was able to do that. It was all for the better, despite his privileged birth he would need to know how to survive on his own. He wouldn’t live in the hall for all eternity. "It helps me mourn her. When I wear something that was hers, it makes me miss her just a little less."  
  
"It's no use to look to the past," he said as he was captivated by the flames for a moment. His words sounded like something Ragnar would say, or Bjorn if he was stressed.  
  
"That doesn't mean I don't get to miss her. She was a very wise woman, and I wish I could still talk to her."  
  
"I'd rather not talk about it." He had been there when she drowned, that much I knew. No one had given me the full story, and aside from the boys, no one knew. Not knowing just what had happened made it all the harder to deal with. Then there was Dagmar, the sweet terror or a girl, and Athelstan... Death was all around us, and I didn't like it, either. Not talking about it helped Ubbe feel like he could keep it at bay, somehow. Siggy had explained it once, but it hadn’t made sense. Either way, pushing Ubbe on this wouldn’t help.  
  
"Then what do you want to talk about? There must be a reason you're bringing out two mugs for tea," I said as he sat down next to me. He looked away as if I'd caught him.  
  
"I'm worried about you,” he said. “Brother made you happy, and now he's gone you're inside a lot. I've never seen your house this messy. I think you’re sad." I gave him a kind smile as I put my hand on his arm.  
  
"That's why I was with Ragnar today. Idu will help me with the laundry tomorrow. I'm very bad at taking care of myself when I feel sad, so I've asked for help."  
  
"But that's just for your house. Who will take care of you? Father and mother keep fighting, Floki is a murderer, and Helga is always around him. And with Bjorn gone, and Siggy dead, who do you have left?" That little shit hit the bull's eye.  
  
"That's a very adult question, Ubbe." He noticed the shift in my tone.  
  
"Does that mean you will answer me like an adult? Because I can handle it. I'm eight, I'm almost an adult." He was nowhere near ready to have such a conversation yet, not with someone as broken as me. Bjorn had gotten his ring at twelve, even though he didn't go raiding until he was sixteen. Eight was way too young.  
  
I took in a deep breath and put a hand to his face, resting my forehead to his. He was just a boy.  
  
"Where I come from, boys like you should be running around playing tag, and catch frogs in the tall grass by the lake."  
  
"I have to train and learn how to protect my family. And right now, I have to protect you." The conviction in his eyes was killing me. He was growing up before my eyes.  
  
"Do you mean to take Bjorn's place? There's only so much you could do to help me. And trust me, you don't want to have to grow up too fast." Ubbe sat back, not happy with my answers. At all.  
  
"You're avoiding my question."  
  
"I know. I think I'm just not ready to put such a burden on you. I will learn how to take care of myself, I won't bother you."  
  
"I could help you clean up," he offered. As a show of good faith, he got up and filled both our mugs with hot water. Knowing the other men in his family, if I would send him off with nothing he would only dig his heels in deeper.  
  
"If you truly want to help me, maybe could take one or two burdens away from me." His eyes went wide a little in anticipation as he tried to keep his attention on the tea. "I worry about Sigurd. He needs you."  
  
"Sigurd is doing fine," he muttered. He wasn't liking the task I set for him, but it might be the most important of all. Like me, Sigurd needed more people to care about him and give him attention. Having his brothers include him in their games would make a world of difference. Not to mention it would keep Ubbe from being occupied with things he was still too young to be bothered with.  
  
"He is sad a lot, like me. I know he's very young, but if you could sometimes play a game with him, or listen to him talk, that would be good."  
  
"But he's barely four."  
  
"I know, and you don't have to if you don't want to. But you asked me what you could do to help, and that is my answer. I try to take care of him as much as I can, but there are some things I can't give him. He needs to have a brother to teach him the really important things. He needs someone to teach him how to be a man."  
  
"If you say so..."  
  
"I know so. I had an older brother once, and he taught me all the things my parents could not. Those were always the cool things." Like how to build furniture, get told off for falling from faith, doing cocaine for the first time, sibling stuff.  
  
"Well, there is this really cool place near the beach... I suppose we could take him with us tomorrow."  
  
"That's all I ask. You'll need your brothers one day, and they will always look up to you." He turned pensive for a bit.  
  
"Does that mean Ivar as well?"  
  
"Ivar most of all. You must have noticed your mother spends all her time with him. He will need all of his brothers to make sure he will become a man."  
  
"He can't become a man. He can't fight, ever."  
  
"If being a man is all about fighting, then why does Lagertha not have an arm ring? Does she not fight?"  
  
"You don't understand. Anyway, you should be in bed. You are still tired, I can see."  
  
"I haven't finished my tea, yet. If you don't want to talk about Ivar, then say so. I thought you could be a good older brother, but if you don't want to, I could just ask Hvitserk..." It was despicable, to play on his emotions like this, but it was the only way that maybe I could convince Ubbe to finally accept Ivar. The boy was a year and a half old now and needed to be around other people than Aslaug. She would raise him to be dependent on her, in the worst possible way. I knew how hard it was to try and see myself as independent from the one who took care of me. If Aslaug got her way, the boy would have half a lung at most.  
  
"I'll do it... But only because you asked so nicely." He brought a smile to my face. "And then you have to promise me to have Idu help with the other stuff as well."  
  
"I promise to have Idu do more than just my laundry, but only if she has the time. I can't force her to work until midnight."  
  
"In that case, I'll tell mother she needs to come by for a few days." His tone told me not to go against him on this. Ubbe must have watched his brother talk to me before, as he sounded just like Bjorn when he did.


	101. New King In Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-11-802

"Ubbe, at least close the door behind you when you barge in like this," I said without looking up from my book. The strength with which the door was thrown open told me who it was. He was followed by a gust of freezing wind.   
  
"Ragnhild, I brought company." I finished reading the paragraph and put a bookmarker on the right spot, then closed the book and looked up. Ubbe closed the door behind a man I didn't recognize. He was rather short for a Viking, though his long, shiny brown hair made up for it. He seemed friendly enough, which instantly made me wary. Friendly people came here asking for blessings, and those faces I knew. The new faces were all a bit nervous. This one was anything but.   
  
"Good afternoon," I said as I sat up on the bed. The man took off his cloak as he noticed how warm it was inside. "What can I do for you?"   
  
"Ragnhild, this is king Harald Finehair," Ubbe said, trying to sound like it was a formal introduction. I sized the man up, trying to figure out why he'd come here. I hadn't seen a king since the raid on Paris, barring Ragnar. His name did ring a bell, though...   
  
"A cup of ale to start you off, then. Ubbe?"   
  
"Yes please," Harald said. Ubbe got him a cup, as I was getting too fat to easily move around the room. I made to get up, but Harald put up a hand. "Don't get up for my sake. I was told you had a difficult pregnancy." I sunk down on the pillows again.   
  
"I wished I had known I would be visited by a king. I'd have cleaned up a bit, at the least."   
  
"Don't worry. I often frequent my brother's house, which is worse by far. And he doesn't have a big belly like yours as an excuse. I'm sorry for barging in like this, but Ubbe assured me it would be fine." For a king, he didn't look very regal. He sat down on one of the seats, pulling it back so he could face me from a safe distance.   
  
"He's right," I said with a smile. "He and his brothers always come and go as they please, as long as it’s in between meals."   
  
"What happens before and after?" Harald asked with a crooked smile.   
  
"This had to come from somewhere," I quipped as I put a hand on my stomach.   
  
"I know what sex is," Ubbe said, rolling his eyes as he handed Harald a cup. He joined me on the edge of the bed, moving his hands through the wolf fur.   
  
"You have quite the collection," Harald said as he took in the house. "Where did you get it all?"   
  
"I befriend many traders. They know by now I'll buy anything that piques my interest. And I have many interests. I'm especially proud of that oil lamp over there, and the Kris knife next to it." By now almost all traders knew I liked to talk about everything that had happened in other places, and that it would make me more likely to buy something they thought was useless. When dealing with strangers, a man's greed was very easily relied on.   
  
"It's all... intriguing. I was told you know of many things, and if you know about all the things in here..." His eyes kept finding strange new things to look at, he even went as far as to lean forward to see.   
  
"Is there any knowledge in particular you're interested in?" I asked.   
  
"I'd like to know if it is true you have visions of the future." The only people who asked me about that were the religious gits like Horik.   
  
"What future are you interested in?"   
  
"I want to know if Bjorn will come home to you." No need to disrupt the doubtlessly pretty picture of me he had in his head. If he wanted to think I had a gift, I wouldn't set him straight.   
  
"I know he'll be back before the baby is born." Ubbe nodded in confirmation, he had heard the same prophecy from Aslaug.   
  
"Then surely he must be home soon, by the looks of it," Harald said as his eyes slid to my belly.   
  
"He has until shortly after Yol. Why do you ask?" I shifted around a bit to keep the baby from kicking against my spine. Ubbe threw me a worried look, but a hand on his shoulder made him relax. He needed to pay attention to Harald, not to me.   
  
"Because I was hoping he'd join me and Ragnar for next year's raid to Paris. It is widely known he was a vital part of the victory. I heard he's part of the reason it all went as it did." Bjorn had run point on the plan after Ragnar had locked himself away in the casket with some food and drink, and plenty of weapons. Before Ragnar woke up, he told me how hard it had been to keep everyone in line. Floki was upset over Ragnar switching religions, his mother had wanted to put a stop to the whole procession and have Ragnar burned on a pyre, while Rollo had given orders to have a last boat built. Then, after the sack of Paris, Bjorn had been in charge as they invaded Roskilde.   
  
"If Bjorn is responsible for that, Ragnhild's part was even bigger," Ubbe interjected. "It was her that came up with the idea for the trebuchets, and she helped put the plan together. The only reason she wasn't there was because she found out she was with child and got back here early." It felt good to have Ubbe speak up for me like that. My knowledge of the Christian faith had been invaluable for timing when Ragnar would throw off the lid, and what he could expect to be a genuine offer to help bury him. I had been surprised with how much Ragnar knew, but some details had been blurry for him.   
  
Now it was Harald's turn to size me up. He cocked his head a bit as he did, his eyes showing a glint of wonder. Of course, he had heard about how I guided Horik south, or helped overthrow earl Arvid, or killed Kalf, or any other of the many games I'd been involved in. I couldn't assume I was a surprise factor anymore. Then the one remaining question was how far he was willing to go to achieve his goal.   
  
"Really, now?" he asked, already knowing the answer.   
  
"As I told you, I have many interests," I said with a secretive smile.   
  
"I hadn't realized laying waste to cities was one of them." He leaned forward a bit, but he seemed more entertained than impressed.   
  
"That was more of a happy accident than a true interest, but I'll admit I enjoyed working on the trebuchets with Floki."   
  
"The boat builder? Kattegat somehow seems to shy away from him, though. You are the first to admit you are close to him."   
  
"The very one. He is a close friend of mine. The rest of Kattegat doesn't have a heart as big as mine. Just because he made a very stupid mistake doesn't mean I like him any less." He was also one of the few people who didn't look down on me for what happened with Erlendur. Floki knew me well enough to realize that my asking anyone for help at all could be considered a miracle.   
  
"But he killed Ragnar's priest," Harald said with a hint of surprise. He'd been informed about the town well enough, so he had to know about me as well. That left me wondering if this was a visit to pay me respect, or one to gather more information.   
  
"His name was Athelstan, and he was a friend of mine as well. Floki has paid for his crimes many times over, so I consider the matter to be settled." I decided he'd had enough questions answered. Now it was my turn. "So why did you come here?"   
  
"I told you, I want to fight alongside Ragnar and Bjorn."   
  
"There is always more. You could have come here sooner if that was all. You wouldn't have risked having to spend the winter here with the fjord almost frozen."   
  
"All right. I came here to see you." If that were true he wouldn't have been brought here by Ubbe. A servant would have brought him here, and Harald probably wouldn't be alone. Ubbe being here was a message from Ragnar telling me to be wary. Harald wasn’t a threat yet, but he would become one in time. He meant to invade us, and for some reason Ragnar allowed him to survive. That had better not be a mistake on Ragnar’s side.   
  
"I'm not asking a third time,” I warned him.   
  
"It's true. There's a woman..." That explained so much.   
  
"And you've been trying to get her to marry you, but she said no. Then you made a big promise as you men are wont to do, and you need to be in Kattegat to achieve that. I know you've been busy. You're here to find out what kind of opposition you will have to face when you think the time is ripe to overthrow Ragnar." The small talk to the traders was paying off. With the additional information I had gotten from them, it was easy to figure out why Harald was here and what must have happened.   
  
"See? I told you she just knows. It's creepy," Ubbe said with a stern look. He would bring my words back to Ragnar, no doubt, and fill him in on what he didn't know already.   
  
"Indeed you did, Ubbe. It's uncanny."   
  
"She must be very beautiful, this woman of yours. Are you sure she's waiting for you?" I asked. Nothing like sowing a little distrust among the enemy.   
  
"She is." He wasn't sure. His eyes didn't betray a thing, but his voice did. He was just too sure of it, despite him working on his goal for over five years. No woman would wait for five years, he had been given false hope. He had convinced himself it was true. The poor man...   
  
"Then she must be worth fighting for," I noted.   
  
"How did you know?"   
  
"I just do. Why does it matter?" The baby was pushing on my organs now. I had to keep my attention on Harald, something told me he would be around for a while.   
  
"Because I could use a woman like you on my side." He wasn't serious about trying to persuade me to join him, he wouldn't dream of saying something like that in front of Ubbe. Harald was trying to get me off his trail.   
  
"Then why not say so before?"   
  
"Because you are to be wed to the son of Ragnar. You carry his child." He tried to impress me with what he knew, but it wasn't much. He could have found this out by talking to anyone in town.   
  
"You think me hardly being able to stand up makes me a difficult target?"   
  
"It makes you even more dangerous." His comment made me smile, he knew how to flatter a woman. Even with Bjorn out of town, I could take care of Kattegat in my own way. The only question left was how far Harald would be willing to go.   
  
"Would you kill my child if it benefited you?"   
  
"I would." I sighed at his answer. He hadn’t even needed time to think about it.   
  
"You're just like the rest of them, except for one thing. Ubbe, would you please hand me that silver box on the bottom shelf?" Ubbe did as I said, very happy to be a part of the game between me and Harald. I took it from him and opened it. Harald didn't flinch, almost too sure I wouldn't hurt him. The joke was on him, though. He had weaknesses, and just his name told me the first. That woman was the second.   
  
"Bjorn told me to get rid of some of this stuff to make room for the baby. I loathe parting with it though, knowing barely anyone knows to appreciate it properly. This, however, will not be lost upon its next owner." I took the ivory comb from the box and held it to Harald. He eyed it warily, unsure what to make of it, but he did get up to take it from my hand.   
  
"It’s just a comb," I told him. "I am quite sure you've never seen one like it, nor will you again if you do not heed my words." Harald's eyes shot back at me. "That comb is made of a substance I know as ivory. It grows out of beasts not unlike a mammoth. This beast however lives in the bright and warm sun. It stands twice as tall as you, and four times as broad." Harald's eyes showed a hint of wonder. I knew he'd accept the comb. "This is made of one of its tusks. You may see one of them once, alive and well. But you will need to follow Bjorn if you want to." Appealing to his sense of wonder might just do the trick. He would no doubt continue on with his plans to take over Norway, but this might give us time to deal with him in time, when Bjorn was back, and the boys were older. His wanting to join us on a raid was a good sign, he wanted to take it slow. We just needed to wait long enough for him to realize his woman had already left him.   
  
"And you would give me such a treasure?" Harald asked. "Why would you do that?"   
  
"Because I know how this works. See it as a feeble attempt to win your trust. After all, how many times are you gifted with a comb made of elven bone?" As I expected, his eyes widened. His eyes flashed back to the comb, inspecting it at great length. Religious git.   
  
"How can that be? If it's made of elven bone, and yet grows on a great beast?"   
  
"Only the gods know. Perhaps the beasts eat the bones of elves, or perhaps the beasts themselves are descended from elves. I know them as elephants."   
  
"What do you want in return?"   
  
"It's a gift freely given. I expect nothing in return. Though I would be grateful if you could help me up, the baby is kicking rather violently." Harald laid down the comb and got up, extending a hand to me. As soon as I took it I was pulled to my feet. He was incredibly strong, and somehow graceful.   
  
"Thank you. Moving around a bit usually helps calm it down." I walked around a bit, rubbing a hand over my belly. This little shithead was getting increasingly active.   
  
"It? I heard Aslaug refer to your child as a boy."   
  
"And I'm fairly certain it will be a girl. We won't know for sure until it's born."   
  
"Only the gods know for sure," he said with a nod.   
  
"Do you have any children?"   
  
"No. Well, not that I know of. None that I'd call my own." Frequent raider. Serial rapist. Contempt for human life. If he intended to stay around for a while I might just beat some of that out of him. "I suppose I'll have to get a few of them in time, though."   
  
"If you don't actually want children, why bother getting your own? Just adopt one. At least you'll know what you're getting."   
  
"That's not a bad idea, actually. Wouldn't know what to do with dirty swaddling, anyway. It would be great if I could skip all that."   
  
"No nephews or nieces, then?"   
  
"Gods, no. My brother is even worse with women than me." I didn't feel the need to point out just how bad men could be about having children, only to love them at first glance.   
  
"Does your brother share your dream of becoming king?"   
  
"Enough to support me, but not enough to want to share the throne. He's just in it for the action." Then who was the real threat, of the two of them?   
  
"What is his name?" I bent over forward, leaning on the table on my elbows. This had to be the weirdest conversation Harald had ever had, and yet his face remained still, aside from his jolly smile. He knew how to make himself seen as less of a threat than he actually was.   
  
"Halfdan. Halfdan the Black." I guessed that didn't refer to the color of his skin. "He's a great warrior - are you sure you're fine?" I stood up straight again.   
  
"My back's been hurting a fair bit. It's normal. Viking don't just fight with swords and shields, you know. The worst thing is those swollen ankles, and I have to pee every hour." Harald did not know how to respond to that. "Tell me more about your brother. Is family important to you?"   
  
"It is," Harald said, glad to have something else to talk about. "We went on our first raid together and loved it ever since. He's a madman once he's fighting his enemies." If this Halfdan was easy to provoke, he could prove to be another one of Harald’s weaknesses.   
  
"Hence the name," I sighed. That one would give us a fair amount of trouble if it ever got to a fight.   
  
"Aye. Tell me, is it true you hold the fate of the Viking in your hands?" I sighed and shook my head.   
  
"It always comes down to that, doesn't it, Ubbe? What do you think, should we show him?" The boy looked up from his knees at the mention of his name. He had looked bored, but now he came to life again.   
  
"I can't see why not. It always works out well for you if you do."   
  
"Don't go betraying all my secrets now," I chided softly, knowing Harald would be doubly interested now. "You know where it is?" Ubbe was already on his way to the chest. I sat down at the table, wanting to see Harald's reaction to it. That was the only reason I bothered to keep the blasted thing around these days. Harald turned his chair around and watched Ubbe shake out the blanket with a flourish he had nearly perfected. His eyes were as intent on Harald's as mine were.   
  
The kind expression dropped away from Harald's face. His eyes didn't necessarily go wide, but the way his lips parted a bit told me he couldn't contain his surprised expression. After all this time the colors had started to fade a little, but it was still magnificent for the craftsmanship put in.   
  
"You hardly seem to think it special," Harald noted.   
  
"I've been looking at it for over two years. It hasn't exactly changed much since then."   
  
"But still..."   
  
"I was in awe when I first saw it. I couldn't believe someone would take the time to make something like this for me, hardly knowing me as anything else but a sick woman who came out of nowhere. By now I realize the woman was a Seeress and foresaw my coming a year in advance. The only part that still makes me wonder is that bit about the Valkyrie. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean. I'm more interested in how others react to it."   
  
"And what do you see?" he asked.   
  
"Confirmation of what I already knew." I kept my eyes locked on his, scanning his face for any kind of reaction.   
  
"You're a careful woman, Ragnhild. I'll heed your words, for now." I hid the relaxation I felt flooding my body, not wanting to give away my advantage now. Harald would smell any sign of weakness on me.   
  
"That is all I ask."   
  
"Thank you for the ale, and the conversation."   
  
"Thank you for taking the time to come and see me." Harald got up and left. Ubbe stayed behind and put back the blanket for me. I sat down on the bed again, happy that my annoying little pea had calmed down a bit.   
  
"Ubbe, does your father ever tell you what happens when he has these kinds of talks with other earls and kings?" He sat down next to me, his fingers moving through the furs again. It had started as a habit when he got bored whenever I was talking to someone about boring adult stuff, but I got the sense that was changing a little.   
  
"Sometimes. He wants me to understand what's really going on."   
  
"Do you know what just happened between me and Harald?" He had to think about that for a moment.   
  
"He threatened you and the child..."   
  
"He did. And what did I do in return?"   
  
"You didn't exactly threaten him back... But you didn't do nothing."   
  
"You're right. I told him what I needed him to hear. If he wants to become king of Norway, he will have to overthrow your father. I don't want that to happen, of course."   
  
"So... you told him to wait?" I awarded him with a smile.   
  
"I did. Can you think of a reason why?"   
  
"Because you're pregnant? Because Bjorn is not here to protect you?" There had been more reasons than that, but this would do for now.   
  
"Exactly."   
  
"And he listened to you. Why would he do that?"   
  
"Because he knows your father listens to me, and that I'm aware of what's going on. Harald knows I have some influence in Kattegat, but he didn't know how much or why. That's why he came to see me."   
  
"But you didn't talk about that at all," he said as he knitted his brows together.   
  
"When grown-ups talk the way we did, there's always the things we do say, and the things we don't. Try and listen to it next time. Ask yourself, why would someone want to know that? What could he gain from it?"   
  
"Why are you telling me all this?" I smiled at that, seeing an opening to put my words into practice.   
  
"What could I have to gain from telling you?"   
  
"You... want to teach me? You want to see if I'm ready?" His eyes lit up a bit at the thought of being treated like an adult.   
  
"Are you?" Ubbe tried to find a clue in my face, but he wasn't experienced enough to read me.   
  
"That is a very grown-up thing to say," he decided on.   
  
"It is."   
  
"Is there something you're not telling me now?"   
  
"That's for you to find out, Ubbe."   
  
"Can I think about it for a bit?"   
  
"Of course, you can. Thank you for helping me out today." Ubbe was so lost in thought he didn't even say goodbye to me as he left.


	102. New Year's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-01-803

The day after Yol had ended - and to me, a new year had begun - I decided I couldn't delay talking to Aslaug any longer. As far as I was concerned the baby was coming any day now, still not having had any luck trying to figure out when or where I'd gotten pregnant, and that meant I needed to be preparing for the birth.   
  
The boys were already up when I got to the hall and were running around as the servants tried to clean up after last night's celebrations.  
  
"Ragnhild!" Hvitserk came running, only slowing down in time before he crashed into my belly. He put his arms around it, then laid an ear on it as if to listen. "Are you sure you don't want to swim in the sea like before?"  
  
"Yes, I am. Maybe next year. Is your mother awake yet?" Hvitserk glanced at Ubbe, who seemed to take in a deep sigh.  
  
"Do you want to fight again?" Ubbe asked.  
  
"No, I was hoping we might talk." The boys didn't seem to believe me but pointed to the back all the same.  
  
Aslaug was feeding Ivar, which made me wonder how long she was planning on doing that. Maybe it made sense to keep it up for over a year and a half, at least here. I couldn't remember if Sigurd had been breastfed that long. And what would be considered normal for me? I did want to feel like I had a choice.  
  
"Aslaug?" She looked up as she heard my voice.  
  
"I'm not in the mood to fight," she sighed as she latched off Ivar and put her dress back on. Ivar fussed as if he had wanted some more, but Aslaug didn’t want to feel vulnerable with me around. Our fighting was getting on her nerves, as well. "Neither am I. I'd like to talk to you if that's okay."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"The birth, for one. I need to feel like I can do it. I... I need you to tell me what to expect." Her smile did nothing to settle my nerves, but I sat down on the edge of her bed nonetheless.  
  
"Do you, now? I thought you were so knowledgeable on all things."   
  
"I don't have any experience with this," I stressed, already feeling the rage build up inside of me. She knew this, and yet she kept insisting on me knowing everything. "I only know about a few particular things, you know that. I've shouted it at you plenty of times."  
  
"Yes, you did. Aren't you going to apologize for that, first?" This was going nowhere. I needed to know if I could count on her.  
  
"I could say it, but I wouldn't mean it. You hurt me, Aslaug."  
  
"Which I don't understand, because you have it so much better here," she said through gritted teeth. "I did you a huge favor."  
  
"You did," I admitted. "And in doing so, you claim to be responsible for the gods bringing me here. If Bjorn were here..." I didn’t want to fall back to our fighting again. The birth was such a short end off from where I stood now, and I had hoped to have this conversation about the birthing plan with Bjorn by my side.  
  
"He'd defend you?" Aslaug asked softly, realizing I'd snap if she spoke too harshly.  
  
"Maybe he would be able to explain why it makes me so mad." I breathed in deep to keep the tears away. My eyes found the ring on my right hand, reminding me that Bjorn still loved me.   
  
"What do you want to know about the birth?" Aslaug’s tone was gentle.  
  
"It's a big thing, back home. Usually, the family is waiting outside of the room, and only the parents and the father are there, though that depends on the family I suppose. If something goes wrong, the healers can see what is happening in the uterus, so they know what's wrong. And usually, they don't have to keep Vinh at bay. She seems terribly fond of bleeding me out for some reason."  
  
"I still don't get how bleeding someone is a bad thing, but sure. I take it you'll start fighting her if she tries to come near. Do you even want her there?" A cautionary glee made me smile.  
  
"I was hoping I'd get a say in that. I'll have more than enough trouble with the pain."  
  
"I can't imagine that getting worse over the years," she whispered with a sense of urgency.  
  
"Actually, I think it might. We get better at keeping both mothers and children alive, so those who would have died otherwise still pass on their blood, and the likelihood they will suffer through childbirth. We have great ways to deal with the pain, though we are loath to use them during birth."  
  
"So… It might just prove to be even more excruciating to you because of who you are?"  
  
"Because of where I'm from, yes. So if you could keep Vinh away, that would be wonderful. I’ll have more than enough to worry about."  
  
"Ragnhild, she is the healer. She is always involved when children of standing are born."  
  
"And where is that set in stone?" I asked.  
  
"In her memory." I wouldn't have her near just to placate her, what she wanted was not my problem.  
  
"Aslaug, I don't want her there. I don't know how long it will be until the birth, but I can't be as strong if Bjorn isn't here. I need him, and - I can't..." She put a hand on mine.  
  
"I'll let her know. You will be fine, Ragnhild. It's just nerves. You only ever saw me and Siggy give birth, so you're scared. Ivar was a lot of trouble, but that isn't how it usually goes." It wasn't only that, but it was a major part of it.  
  
"Well, then promise me one thing. And I mean it, Aslaug. I need you to promise on whatever you hold most dear in life, and then some." Her eyes narrowed as she hadn't expected such a request from me. Oaths were still a touchy subject between us, but this I couldn’t ignore or let slip.  
  
"And what could you hope to ask me that warrants an oath as such?" she asked.  
  
"If you need to make a choice between me and my child, I want you to save the baby." Aslaug started to chuckle but stopped as she saw my face.  
  
"That's not how we do things." She put Ivar down beside her.  
  
"It is how things are done in my time," I lied. I had no idea what the rules on it were, exactly. "I need you to promise me."  
  
"I won't, and I can't. If things go wrong, you can have another child. We can’t get another you."  
  
"I'll feel guilty about this one for the rest of my life,” I said as I put a hand on my belly. “I'm not strong enough to handle losing a child, I know that. The only thing you'll achieve is me sinking into desperation so deep, I'll lose everything. Aslaug." I grabbed both of her hands, looking into her eyes with all the seriousness I could muster. "I know I'll end up wanting to kill myself. And you won't be able to stop me for long. Saving my life over that of my child will result in two deaths. Is that what you want?" She did nothing but breathe and stare at me. Her eyes were looking for something, perhaps a hint of fear, or doubt.  
  
I had none of those. This wasn't just the hormones talking, this was me being honest. If this child were to die, if anything were to happen...   
  
"I can't make such a promise, or an oath," she finally said. "Not when I know what we know about you." My anger flared up, forming a hot, burning pit in my stomach. Me being the vessel of Freyja had never worked against me like this. She was afraid of having her premonition come true, and she was still hoping I was the one to save the Viking.  
  
"Then I'll find someone who will understand," I warned her.  
  
"You won't succeed. We all know how this goes. You'll have difficulty finding someone who would even hear you suggest it."  
  
"Then I can't make a decision like that about my own body? Will you force me to live while I watch my child die? I'm not strong enough, you have to understand. I'd rather have my child grow up than have to face a life without it."  
  
"We'll keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life." I had to get out of here. I was so fucking close to yelling at Aslaug, I had to leave. "Ragnhild! You can't be mad at me for telling you the truth!" I really had to do my best to keep from shouting and cursing at her, so I did the next best thing. I started swearing in languages no one could understand.  
  
"You damned filthy pigs! Sons of whores, the lot of you!" Hand on my belly, I tried to storm out, but I was making rather slow time. My muscles were sore as ever, as were my joints. My back hurt more with each passing day, and I wasn't even feeling how tired I was anymore. "Damn fucking hippies, can't even acknowledge I have a right when it comes to deciding about my own body!" I made sure to shout back a few times, not that Aslaug would be able to understand it. "I'm not a fucking slave anymore, you hear me! I get to say what happens to me now!"  
  
"Ragnhild, why are you yelling?" I ignored Hvitserk and kept on wobbling.  
  
"You all want to die for honor all the time! Why can’t I sacrifice my life for that of my child! You fucking hypocrites!"  
  
"Are you mad?"  
  
"Get off my lawn, you pipsqueak." I tried to brush off Hvitserk, but if anything, hearing me talk in strange tongues made him laugh. He truly had no idea what I was so mad about, so in his mind, it turned into a game.  
  
"What does that mean?" I sighed, knowing Hvitserk would be able to keep up with me, anyway. He wouldn’t stop pestering me until he had an answer.  
  
"It means I'm very, very upset."  
  
"I thought you didn't want to fight with mother anymore."  
  
"I am leaving to keep from fighting her," I said. I didn’t want him to think I broke my promise to him. Hvitserk seemed happy as a peach again.   
  
"Is the baby coming out soon?"  
  
"I don't know. It looks like I can't get any bigger, but I'm not sure. I think it might stay in there for two more moons, if not three." I had badgered Helga and Aslaug about it so often, they refused to talk to me about my due date. They told me that the baby would know when to come out, and that I shouldn’t worry. Like that would work.  
  
"If you say so..." I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down at the insufferable midget.  
  
"Is there something you're not telling me?"  
  
"Why would I keep something from you?" He seemed genuinely surprised.  
  
"Nothing," I sighed. "You'd never keep anything from me. I thought you might have overheard someone talking."  
  
"Do you need me to do what Ubbe does?" I cocked my head in surprise, noticing the boy had already stripped away my anger. I knew I couldn't stay mad at him for long, but now it seemed I couldn't stay mad around him, either. This boy would be the end of me, one day.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Walk you home and make sure you lie down before he gets back." I had to smile at that. I hadn't even realized Ubbe did that every single time he walked me home. He'd been adamant about going in with me and helping me take a seat.  
  
"I'd like that very much, Hvitserk. I knew I could count on you." He wasn't tall enough to extend me an arm as Ubbe was wont to do, but he did know a thing or two about courtesy. Hvitserk clutched my hand tight as he walked me home.  
  
"Are you mad at Bjorn? Because he left?"  
  
"I'm mad at a lot of things and people, not just your brother. And I don't think I'm really that mad all the time. I feel like I can't do anything to fix my problems, and it makes me mad at the world because I feel so helpless." He pouted a little as he thought about my words.  
  
"Did you know my tooth came loose?" I looked down as he wiggled one of his front teeth back and forth with his tongue.  
  
"Really? If you can move it back and forth like that, that means it'll come out soon. Maybe even before my baby will."  
  
"Mother said the same. She said my tooth wouldn’t keep up everyone."  
  
"I thought that wanderer took away Ivar's pain. Is it coming back?"  
  
"He still cries out sometimes. Just like this one will with you. Mother said you will be tired for a bit longer, so I shouldn’t ask you for stories all the time." He put a hand on my belly for a second, and almost fell over as he tried to keep walking at the same time. I kept him upright by his hand, smiling at his perceived sacrifice to make sure I kept my sanity.  
  
"Yes, I imagine I'll be kept awake for a while at night." It was one of the things I had wanted to talk about with Aslaug. If Bjorn wouldn't make it back in time for the birth... I didn't know if I could forgive him if that happened. We were supposed to face the sleepless nights together, as a team.  
  
"You look sad," Hvitserk said.  
  
"I miss your brother. I want him to share in all of this, but... I'm a little worried about what will happen when the baby is here, and Bjorn is still gone."  
  
"You don't need him."  
  
"There's only so much others can do, Hvitserk. For some things the baby will need both his parents."  
  
"Are you sure? Because Ubbe and me are taking care of you now." He sounded so dignified, so certain, I couldn't help but smile. In his mind it must have been as simple as walking me home, but I knew I would be able to count on support. Ragnar would not let his first grandchild starve, and he wouldn’t hang me out to dry.   
  
"You're right. It's a stupid fear." We got to my house, and true to his word Hvitserk stared at me intently until I lay down on the bed.  
  
"How big is your baby going to be?" he asked as he played with his tooth again.  
  
"If it stays in here for much longer I think it might come out bigger than you.”  
  
"No way!" His eyes widened as he came closer, inspecting the bump.  
  
"Yes way. The baby can already hear you, did you know that?" He shook his head, eyes still set to disbelief. "The baby can hear you talk if you want to tell it something." Hvitserk climbed up on the bed and put his ear to my bump.  
  
"Baby? Are you there?" Exactly what I'd been hoping for, Hvitserk endearing the shit out of me. I needed to feel happy and good about what was to come, and not just worry my ass off. I wanted this child, and I wasn’t the only one eager to meet. "It can't talk back yet, but it might kick." Hvitserk's tiny little hands went all over my belly, hoping to feel any sign of life. The baby was growing so large, there just might not have been enough room to move around. She'd been a lot gentler lately. "Baby, are you a boy? Everyone thinks you're a boy, expect for Ragnhild. She thinks you are a girl, but she doesn't say that all the time."  
  
"What would you like it to be? If you could choose?" I asked.  
  
"I've got enough brothers. I want this one to be a sister." So. Freaking. Adorable.  
  
"She would be your niece, and you would be her uncle."  
  
"But I'm barely older! Rollo is an uncle, I'm too young for that. I'll just be her brother. You hear that, little baby? I'm going to be your brother!" He started petting my belly as if it were a goat. As horrible as it was to have to miss Bjorn, there were some nice things to life if I thought to look around me.


	103. Fated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick message to ask if anyone is interested in becoming a beta-reader for this story. The first chapters I would like to have someone go over for me are scheduled to go online by the end of August, from there it's about 5K to 10K each week. I know that's asking for a lot, but anyone willing to give it a go can contact me through Reddit, the link is in my profile. We've got a nice head-start so there's no real stress, yet.
> 
> It would be for the shortfic I have planned in between part 1 and 2 to see if it works out (9 weeks), and if it works out we can continue working on part 2, which is currently 30 updates worth of content, varying from 10K to 15K per week. I'll need to slow down on the posting after this part, as the show isn't airing until Fall and I will need time to work on part 3 to make it even better than 1 and 2.
> 
>  
> 
> 03-01-803

My visits to the Seer had become more frequent since Bjorn left, but not less irritating. It took me a while to get there, and most of the time I felt like I wasted my time. And still, talking to him was better than staying in and staring at the wall, waiting for it to crumble. Aslaug warned me not to go there alone, worried I might slip on the ice, but it was covered with a thick layer of fresh snow. I had questions only he could answer, and I didn’t have much time left to go there.  
  
"I should have known you would come by," the Seer said as I came in. He was facing away from me, working on something with a pestle and mortar. "Is this about your riddle, or your daughter?" I kept my cloak on, sticking to brushing off the snow that formed a protective layer on top of it. For some reason the Seer didn’t feel cold like the rest of us. Either that, or he wore amazing thermal underwear underneath his robes.  
  
"It’s always nice to hear how well my little girl will do, but I came for the riddle today. I imagine I won’t have to wait much longer to meet my girl." The Seer turned around with a gnarly grin.  
  
"Then please, join me. I’ll regal you with tales of your daughter’s bravery when you start worrying for her as every mother does. There’s much to see, and much to share." I filled up with pride when I remembered him telling me about her future. She would go places where no mortal had ever gone before. Perhaps she would discover Iceland, who knew how much I had changed history already. It made sense, the Seer had said that he saw a queen ruling in Kattegat before I would die. Finding a new land would make the men accept her as their leader, I had no doubt about it.  
  
"Yes, she has a great future ahead of her," I said as I sat down. The Seer was crushing frozen berry seeds and what looked like an almost pulverized bone for some reason. I knew better than to ask. His robes reeked of sage, but it had become comforting over the almost weekly visits. "The riddle keeps on haunting me."  
  
"Then perhaps tell me what clues you have. Like you, I won’t tell a soul." It was a scary idea, but not a bad one. I spent too long wondering about it on my own already, perhaps it was best to confide in the Seer. The gods knew when I was from, and the Seer knew I wasn’t from this time.  
  
"Well, it’s… Complex, to say the least. You told me I hold the fate of the Viking in my hand. I could tell Bjorn things that will make sure the Viking disappear in a few decades’ time, or I can make him feared in all the world. I don’t know what will happen when I tell him more, and that terrifies me." Both of us kept staring at the seeds that slowly turned into a paste.  
  
"You are not mistaken, though you are not right. Your wisdom can change fates. Yet you are not able to change it alone."  
  
"Then what should I do? What if I change the fates in such a way that I will never be born? What if I can never make it back here? I already tempted the fates in Paris once. Will I just cease to exist? Will the world return to what it was before I came here, causing me to be born again? And what of my daughter, when she's born?" Could I even dare to explain multiverse theory? There was so much that could go wrong. What information would be safe to share, what would prevent me from existing at all? How was I to make sense of these complex questions that kept my mind busy, without being able to share them with someone who talked sense?  
  
Anything I spoke of could ensure my disappearing completely. What if one of my ancestors was to be killed during one of the raids, or was led to a different woman or man, which meant I was not to be born from their line? All the questions I had asked myself in Paris now came back and haunted me. Bjorn wasn't here to ease my mind as he used to for all my other worries, and it made me miss him all the more.  
  
"That is not for you to know. Only the gods may answer those questions. You are not a goddess."  
  
"Are you implying my birth is inevitable? That I was fated to go through the struggles I went through, because all I am was fated to be? Would the gods put me through such torture, just so I could come back here? Then what happens when I've done my part?" I knew the gods were cunts, but this… I hadn’t even considered it. If anything, this made me want to avoid them. If they existed at all, of course.  
  
"That I do not know. I think the question you should ask yourself is if you would risk it. Would you sacrifice your happiness to help those you have come to love?" His words only made my anger grow.  
  
"Why do you always respond that vaguely? Why can't I just simply be, have a happy life? Why was I chosen to make this decision, when I don’t even know what will come of it? Why must I be the one to decide on such matters? What am I, compared to all the others? Why must this choice be mine? What am I to the gods?"  
  
"The choice is yours because you hold the fate of us all. Whatever you decide, no one will ever thank you. No one will ever know of your struggles. No one will know your name, save for the gods that have chosen you." Reaching a boiling point, I got up and hobbled out without a word. I didn't lick the Seer's hand as was customary. He didn’t even seem surprised.  
  
Bjorn was still out in the wilderness. It had been three moons now. If anyone could help me, he was it. Just looking at him, he could make me forget all my troubles. His voice calmed me, his touch could heal the hurt of my internal struggles. I walked in no particular direction, just wanting to be away from the Seer. I should have known better than going to him for help. His words twisted all that I thought I wanted, destroying whatever I thought I knew was certain. How was I ever to know what would happen? I felt like banging my head into a tree, hoping something would start to make sense. Instead of finding an answer to all of my questions, I found Floki.  
  
"Were you with the Seer again?" His eyes showed a hint of mistrust, as it had ever since he had been released from his punishment. He kept some distance between us, for some reason.  
  
"Yes, I was. I don't know how you can hope to gain any wisdom from him. He is infuriating, I'm only left more confused than I was before I met him today."  
  
"Just like the gods, he speaks in mysteries. Much like you, as you well know. What else did you expect?"  
  
"I expected a straight answer to my questions. All his answers tell me is that the gods are vicious cunts hel-bent on making my life miserable." Floki grimaced, switching between a smile and a scowl every second. "It seems the gods want me to choose between two equally dangerous options. I don't know what choice will lead where. Even if I knew what I wanted to happen, I don’t know how to make it be. The more I think about it, the more I get confused."  
  
"Then stop thinking. That’s what Bjorn would say."  
  
"And do what? How am I to make a decision without thinking?" I knew what the answer was, but I refused to consider it. I had to feel. Really, truly, deeply feel. "Many of my fears have disappeared since I came here, but now it seems they were only replaced by darker ones." Floki grunted, standing in front of me with a hand on my belly.  
  
"Fear is for the weak. Fear is a cruel master, never letting you rest or sleep or enjoy yourself. Why listen to fear? Will you teach your child to be afraid?"  
  
"Right now, fear keeps me alive. Because the fear I feel is for Bjorn, for you, for everyone in Kattegat. Who am I to decide for the gods? You wouldn't understand it, even if I tried to explain what it is I fear." Floki spat at my words, phlegm landing beside us on the snow.  
  
"The gods decided what they want. They brought you here. Does this not tell you everything you need to know? Do you not trust them to look after us?" Despite his recent punishment, Floki was still loyal to the gods. And for once, I felt like he was right. Why had the gods brought me here, if not to change something fundamental? "Do not question the gods. You may not understand them, but they know what you crave and what you need. If not, how would they know to keep Bjorn safe?" What? Did he have a vision? Had Aslaug said something about his return?  
  
"What about Bjorn? Do you know something I don't? Is he back?" I felt my heart drop down to my feet, fluttering at the thought of him waiting for me in town.  
  
"He was asking for you. That is why I came to find you." I could smack his face and kiss him at the same time. I turned towards the village and ran as fast as my pregnant body would let me, leaving Floki and his madness to follow after me. I longed to see Bjorn's face. I dreamt of his arms around me. He was alive. He came back. He was safe.  
  
I thought of all the things I wanted to say to him, about us, and about me. Tears ran down my face, feeling like ice cubes scraping over my cheeks. I would have him in my arms again. Bjorn. My strong Viking, capable of protecting me. Able to pick me up and make me forget about my worries with nothing more than a smile.  
  
How would he look? Would he have even more scars than before? Would he - would he still love me? I slowed down as I caught sight of him, exiting the hall.  
  
A bearskin draped across his shoulders, he seemed broader than I had ever seen him. I stopped walking, simply staring at him. I put my hands in front of my mouth as if my breathing could break the spell that had put him in front of me and make him leave me once more. My breath came out in tiny clouds as I almost started hyperventilating.  
  
He turned around, facing me. He recognized me, the only thing changing was his eyes. They softened, turning from cold ice to soft morning sky blue.  
  
I felt more tears wandering down my face, almost freezing in the cold air as they left my eyes. I closed them, wanting to keep this feeling of hope inside. It couldn't be, it had to be a dream. I was dreaming, this wasn't real. It couldn't be, how could he have survived for so long in the cold, harsh tundra? How could he ever have thought to try and make it back here with this much snow and ice everywhere?  
  
Only when I felt his arms around me did I dare let out the sobs that my body had tried to keep inside. Bjorn. It was real. He was here. He came back to me. The tears kept flowing, even as I pushed my face into the bearskin covering him. I pulled him even closer, not planning on letting him go, ever. He rested his chin on my head, as he had done so often before. It felt trusted ,and close, and right.  
  
My feet left the ground as he carried me away in his arms. I slung one arm around his neck and buried my face into the comfort of his neck, the other I kept close to protect our child. My shoulder hit our front door, but I wasn't willing to let him go yet.  
  
I felt my body warm up, not knowing if it was because of Bjorn or the fire that still burned inside our house. He put me down, pulling back my head from his chest so he could kiss me. His hands started to undress me, and I pulled at his clothing as well. When we were both naked, he kissed me, moving towards the bed. I turned around and got on all fours. My knees hit the bed, and he entered me almost immediately. He thrust inside me, and I matched all of his movements with my hips. I tried to force my hips into his as my fingers dug into the furs covering the bed, wanting to absorb his being into mine.  
  
He grunted as he thrust even deeper, moaned out my name. I never wanted him to leave me again. I would tie him to our bed, if necessary. One of his hands slid over my big belly. I felt a rush of lust move through my body as I dug my fingers in even deeper. We both moaned, speaking all we could never say. I cried out his name as I climaxed, tears still running down my face. He came shortly after.  
  
I lay down on my side, feeling exhausted. Bjorn crawled up to me with his torso to my back. He nuzzled my neck and put a protective arm around our child. He was back, he was here, he was safe.  
  
"Stay. Don't you dare leave me again. I want to feel you close to me, always." I put an arm behind me, finding the back of his neck. He kissed my shoulder softly, still not saying a word. Bjorn was back, and that was enough for now.


	104. Breaking Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 03-01-803

Eventually, I turned around. I let a hand rediscover Bjorn’s torso. There were the old scars I had come to love, as well as new ones I was starting to love already. I asked him about them, and he told me. He had fought a bear who was wounded from one of the traps he had set. A wolf had bitten him in his biceps, leaving a small strip of burned skin. He had held a heated blade to it, to stop the bleeding. On his leg was another wolf mark, but it was only a scratch. He told me the stories of his time away based on the new scars I could find on him. I told him all about life here, about Floki being imprisoned and how that had turned out, about Helga being with child, my fights with Aslaug, how Ubbe and Hvitserk had taken care of me more than they knew.  
  
"I am happy to hear everyone else is fine, but what of you?" Bjorn brushed his nose against my neck, following up with soft kisses.  
  
"I was worried I'd never see you again, but Aslaug told me she saw you holding both a girl and a boy. Then I knew you'd be back here before I gave birth, and now, here you are. I spend a lot of time in bed because I'm so tired all of the time. That’s only gotten worse. Other than that, I’ve been visiting with the Seer. I have been worried about..." Was it okay to speak about it?  
  
"You telling me your secret. It was the same for me."  
  
"He was helpful with some things but caused even more confusion on others." We had to talk about my past at some point and now was as good as ever. "Strange as it sounds, Floki helped me."  
  
"He ran off the moment I saw him." Bjorn had told me he'd let go of his anger about him killing Athelstan even before they got back to Kattegat, but there was still some lingering grudge. I suspected it had to do with the fact I had kept it from Bjorn, and that the secret had interfered with his otherwise perfect first proposal, but I didn’t want to assume anything.  
  
"The gods have forgiven him, you should not hold it against him any longer. He was the one to tell me you were back today, I ran into him on my way back from the Seer."  
  
"I was surprised to see him alive, is all. Ragnar was livid when he came to." His fingers touched my face so gently, I thought it was still a dream. "Did you find some answers?"  
  
"I did. The gods have put me on your path for a reason. And who am I to move against the gods? I will share the wisdom I have, and I can only trust the gods will make sure I will be able to stay here, with you. I will help you conquer the Mediterranean Sea if you want to go there. I want you to succeed. I want to be beside you when you do it." Bjorn's mind wasn't set on warfare and raids. He just kissed me on my forehead. The beard he had grown tickled my nose. I wasn’t sure if I liked it on him, but for now, everything about him was perfect.  
  
"What makes you speak like this?" he asked.  
  
"Aslaug, she... She asked the gods for help after a gruesome vision, and I'm the answer to her troubles. I found out the day I told you."  
  
"Then you finally accept that the gods brought you here?" I bit my lip, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to start a fight, either.  
  
"I haven't found all the answers I'm looking for, but I have been searching." His smile told me he figured as much. Being honest with him like this and having him react like that made my heart flutter.  
  
"Whatever you decide to do, I want you to be happy. I know now you have reasons beyond the normal to have doubts. I can see why you have such trouble with it." It felt like such a huge validation. It was all the proof I needed that he loved me. Bjorn understood just what kind of struggles I'd been through since I came here, if only how big they had been. So many of our fights had been at least in part because of me not understanding life here, and now Bjorn had an inkling of why I held to my beliefs with such fervor.  
  
"I love you, Bjorn."  
  
"I love you, too. I will do everything I can to make sure you are happy."  
  
"Being with you makes me happy. I want to be with you for as long as I live." He pulled me close and we simply enjoyed each other's body heat, each other's presence. Now that he was home, I was home. We talked about small things for a time, then Bjorn touched my belly again.  
  
"I'm glad I got back in time. I wouldn't miss the birthing for anything in the world."  
  
"You almost had," I reminded him. "Getting shot in the back is a very poor excuse to miss such an important day. So is getting mauled by a bear." Bjorn's eyes went wide, then he smiled.  
  
"Yes, that would be a terrible thing to do, indeed. Who else would make sure you survive? You're helpless without me." His fingers moved to my wrists, promising to show me just how helpless I could be. I felt his other hand reaching between my thighs, he clearly was ready for more. I smiled, enjoying the touch of his fingers. Then, out of nowhere, I felt like I was peeing.  
  
I felt so embarrassed. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. Bjorn only raised an eyebrow as I tried to get up, but it only got worse. Then it hit me. Aslaug had said Bjorn would be here for the birth…  
  
"My water broke," I whispered. Fear and anxiety took hold of me. As much as I didn't want to be alone, Bjorn had to go out and get help. "You have to get help. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do now." Wasting not a second more, he got up, put on his clothes, and wrapped a cloak around me as I got up, then he scooped me up.  
  
"Bjorn? I - I'm naked, I can't go out there!" Had he gone insane?  
  
"I'm not leaving you alone now. I'm sure the boys will happily run back to get you something you can give birth in." He took a second to kiss me, and I felt all my worries melt away.  
  
The time away had changed him. He was more decisive, and he had this... This calm. As he carried me out through the snow he kept his eyes forward, trusting in - in himself, and not just the gods. He was more balanced, more in control. I could only stare up at him in wonder. Had I known it was that easy to gain this kind of confidence, I'd have moved into a hut in the tundra years ago.  
  
"You seem rather calm," he noted as he looked down for a second.  
  
"Is there a reason to panic, then? I'm not in pain, just a little embarrassed."  
  
"Because you're naked?" I blushed a bit as that wasn't the reason, at all.  
  
"Because I don't know what comes next. I'm supposed to be all knowledgeable, but I have no idea."  
  
"Didn't you ask around?"  
  
"Helga mostly told me about the rituals and things involved, and she prepared me for how it would go. But this... I have no idea why I'm not in pain." There were supposed to be cramps, and panic, and people rushing through traffic to get to the hospital in time, but all I saw was a quiet town, a few lost snowflakes still falling, and Bjorn’s calm contented face.  
  
"Then I suppose we'll find out in a moment." Him keeping his calm like this made me feel calm as well.  
  
When Bjorn came into the hall, barely anyone looked up. It was just the boys, Ragnar, and Helga and Floki there. To them, this was just another day.  
  
"Back so soon?" Ragnar asked as he noticed us approaching.  
  
"My water broke." There was a silence, a moment of peace. I saw the boys looking up at their father to see what that meant, and Ragnar staring at us. Helga got up first and took charge.  
  
"Floki, go get the stuff. Ubbe, go tell your mother it's started. Bjorn, follow me." Helga would do great in a battle. Everyone listened to her immediately, Floki darting off past us, Ubbe heading for the back, and Bjorn going after her, all without a counterword.  
  
"Do you need me to do something?" Ragnar called after us.  
  
"Stay out of the way." As we moved to the back, Helga asked Bjorn to put me down so I could lay on a few furs she spread out over the floor. She pulled up the cloak from my legs, looking how far along I was. Her calm efficiency calmed me down even more than Bjorn did. He sat down next to me, holding my hand as he started to grin.  
  
"You're surprisingly calm," Helga said as her eyes flashed up at me.  
  
"I'll worry when you do. I trust you will take care of me." Just a tiny smile came to her lips.  
  
"You'll want to wear something other than that cloak. This will be a while, from the looks of it."  
  
"I'll go get the boys to grab her a few things." Bjorn left without another word or gesture. Helga covered my legs and sat down in front of me.  
  
"Aslaug said he'd be here in time. She spoke the truth. She knew." Helga gave me one of her radiant smiles.  
  
"So it seems. And about time, I couldn't have grown any bigger." I snuggled into the furs a bit, feeling a cold breeze come in from outside as excited voices rang out.  
  
"Do I have to worry about something strange happening? Because of the curse?"  
  
"No. That was taken care of. Nothing remains." If there had been any complications from removing that cursed IUD, I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place.  
  
"Then I don't need to change any of the other preparations?"  
  
"No, that'll be fine as it is. I'm just a little surprised you didn't have everything in here already. You must have known I would give birth soon." As I glanced over, I saw Helga hesitate a bit on what to answer. "Helga?" She was saved from having to answer as Aslaug came in, servants in tow.  
  
"What are you sitting around for? We have so much to do! How far along is she?"  
  
"Nothing yet," Helga answered. "It'll be until morning at the least." She helped me to my feet as Idu spread out a birth cloth, and all kinds of furs and trinkets were put into place.  
  
"Floki's on his way?" Aslaug asked.  
  
"Yes, he'll be here in a bit. Is Bjorn around?"  
  
"He's with his father, they have a few things to catch up on. You know how that goes." I could imagine Ragnar wanting to give Bjorn an earful about leaving me to begin with, especially after all the help I had needed to even make it to this point, but I didn’t hear either of their voices.  
  
"Why isn't he here?" I asked. They ignored me, as if I wasn't even here. "Where’s Bjorn?"  
  
"I barely got Vinh to hand me over the herbs," Aslaug said with a sigh.  
  
"She should've known this would happen, after all the bickering between her and Ragnhild. I'll send someone out for some oak." I hated how they talked about me as if I wasn’t even here. This was me giving birth, to the child I had been carrying. I was allowed to feel like I was a part of their conversation.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. Idu can get us some." Even the girl didn't dare look me in the eye.  
  
"Helga? Aslaug?" They both turned to me with a creepy kind of smile. "You're keeping something from me. You're not making me feel at ease."  
  
"Oh, don't worry. Everything will be alright," Aslaug promised.  
  
"Just relax, we'll get started in a bit," Helga added.  
  
"Yes, go lie down for a bit. You should rest while you still can." They knelt next to me on the floor.  
  
"Why isn't Bjorn here?" I asked again.  
  
"Men only get in the way," Aslaug promised me. "They get too emotional."  
  
"I thought we talked about this. I need him here, if only to cuss him out and to hold my hand."  
  
"We know what's best, trust us." If there was one thing I didn't want to hear at a time like this, that was it. Aslaug must have seen it on my face as she turned around and left without a further word. Helga avoided my eyes as I tried to catch her attention.  
  
"Helga, tell me the truth. What is going on?"  
  
"We're all here to help you give birth to a healthy child. Aslaug has given birth to four sons, and I have helped more than ten children into this world. You have to trust us, we know what we're doing."  
  
"She told you. About what I want her to choose." I got back up, resting on my elbows. Helga grew sullen, her shoulders dropping.  
  
"She did."  
  
"I'm serious about it, Helga." She still refused to look me in the eye, instead fretting over the arrangement of the carvings around the cloth.  
  
"We're serious as well. Do as I say, and if the gods will it, it won't even become an issue. Everything has gone well up until now, so don't worry about it too much." If anything, she made me worry more. A knot formed in my chest, making me focus on my breathing.  
  
"That's like telling me not to breathe. I need Bjorn in here with me, and I need to know what's going on."  
  
"Do you really want him to see? You remember me telling what usually comes out before there's even a baby, right?" I was all too aware. Having Helga see me urinate and poo as she helped me give birth was sure to make me respect her all the more. Bjorn would get over it as well, it was part of giving life.  
  
"I don't fucking care about that. I need him. Bjorn!" Helga’s eyes shot up to mine now, looking panicked as she tried to fret over me, now.  
  
"It won't happen for hours, really there’s no need to call him in here. Ragnhild, calm down."  
  
"Bjorn!" I heard him exchange a few words with Aslaug, then he came in.  
  
"I figured you might want me with you for this," he said as he sat down behind me. Just the feel of my head to his chest was enough to make me relax. The knot in my chest loosened, my breathing grew calm again.  
  
"You can't be here for the birth," Helga pointed out.  
  
"And how do you plan on keeping me away? You know as well as I do that she's not used to how we do things. Would you have me abandon her just after I got back?" My fingers grabbed hold of his shirt, not wanting to be parted from him again. As I found a comfortable position Bjorn wrapped his arms around me, keeping me safe from Helga's worried look.  
  
"You need me to be calm, and I need him. I'll do whatever you tell me to do, as long as he's here."  
  
"You know it won't be pretty. Ragnhild, please. I urge you to reconsider." Bjorn lifted up my chin and kissed me. We would face this together, and nothing would come between us.  
  
"Floki's back," I heard Aslaug say. "We can start as soon as Bjorn's out of here."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," he told her. "I've been away too long already." I kept my eyes closed, glad to have someone speak up for me as I tried to stay at least a little bit calm.  
  
"She's being a brat," Aslaug spat. "She knows our ways. You taught her yourself."  
  
"And you asked the gods to send her here," Bjorn said with all the calm in the world. "You should know she's different, and that it's not a bad thing. Now, will you invoke Frigg and Freyja to help us meet our child, or not?" Helga busied herself getting her tools ready, and I didn't feel particularly inclined to join in on the conversation, either.  
  
"This is not our way."  
  
"This isn't hers, either. You told her about what you have done at the worst possible time, when you knew I was leaving. You know how she feels about the gods, and yet you tried to force their truth onto her. When have you ever seen that work? She needs to want to believe it, and for that to happen she needs a little distance when she asks for it. And now again you try and force our ways onto her. She needs room to breathe, and I'm the one who can give it to her." Aslaug didn't respond. I knew Bjorn would be able to explain it. I knew he would stick up for me, no matter what he thought of it himself.  
  
"Ragnhild. Your hands." Helga held a bowl of blood in her hands, and I knew a goat had been sacrificed for it mere minutes ago. I sighed and held out my hands. She drew runes on my palms, and the back of my hands. Hers were already covered, and the horrible smell of sage burning was starting to fill the room. Bjorn held out his hands as well, feeling no shame over wearing the womanly runes meant to protect me and the child. He was a part of this now, and he wanted to be here. From what I remembered he would risk the life of our child if he wasn't completely sure of wanting to be a part of this. He'd never be so reckless as to do that.  
  
Helga started the first of many songs, Aslaug only reluctantly joining in as she kept stealing glances at Bjorn. I let it all wash over me, watching as candles were lit and runes were drawn on the floor, on my face, on my large belly. I didn't know half of them, as they had to be taught by a woman and Bjorn hadn't been able to teach me even if he had wanted to.  
  
They sang of bravery, of battle, the kind only women can show. Frigg was honored and was asked to start weaving a fate for my child. Freyja was asked to bless me, for health, and life, and luck. The norns were asked to look down on me and the child with a kind smile, and the Allfather was invoked to ask him to bless me as well, for wisdom and strength.  
  
It was so hauntingly beautiful I didn't even realize my contractions had started until Bjorn sat up. He had felt my belly cramp.  
  
"It's started," he said softly as he stroked my belly for the last time. "Are you ready for this?"  
  
"I am when you are here," I told him. Helga and Aslaug finished their song asking Freyja to keep the pain at bay, then Helga and Bjorn helped me turn around to sit on all fours. I felt my hips relax a bit, and immediately realized Helga was right. She knew her stuff.  
  
"I think I just peed again," I told her. I hadn't even felt the need to or had to relax my body for it to pass.  
  
"That's normal, I told you that." She wiped me off, all the same. It kept coming, though, and I just closed my eyes as I breathed through a contraction. "You can’t push until I tell you to, no matter how badly you might want to. Is that understood? You’re still a long way off."  
  
Siggy had given birth here, too. Helga was here to help me through it all. Bjorn was here, sitting in front of me. I could do this. He was here with me, and I could do this.  
  
"Yes. I’m ready."


	105. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04-01-803

The songs and chanting were starting to get on my nerves. The only thing that kept me from lashing out was Bjorn's calm. Even as I grunted and lost all strength in my arms to keep myself up he was there to tell me I could do it. His soft touches helped me through the feeling my body was being ripped in half, but he could only do so much.  
  
"I can't do this!" Had I still had tears left, they would be falling now. Whatever fluid was still in my body turned into sweat.  
  
"You're doing fine honey, just a little more next time."  
  
"Fuck you!" I had been at it for hours now, if he thought to do better he was welcome to give it a try.  
  
"Keep her focused, Bjorn," Helga said. "Ragnhild. At the next contraction, I want you to push. Really push." Again, I didn't know what to do with my body. It hurt so badly, I couldn't do anything, even if I'd wanted to. Something was wrong, no human being was supposed to be able to handle this kind of pain.  
  
"Come on, you can do this," Bjorn told me.  
  
"Fuck you," I winced as the pain slowly faded again. "I'd rather get mauled by a bear."  
  
"Ragnhild! You can do it!" Hvitserk called out to me. He got a stern rebuke from Ragnar shortly after, then the hall went back to its usual murmur. People had been coming in since news had spread the chanting had started last night.  
  
"Look at me," Bjorn said. I looked up at him, through the tears that still stuck to my lashes, through the sweaty strands of hair that fell over my face. He looked tired himself, too. I hadn’t been able to sleep since the contractions had started, and now natural light started to seep through the hall. Bjorn had stayed up with me all night. This time of year, it was only an hour or two before noon before the sun rose. "You have to keep going. This isn't just about you and me."  
  
"The baby's too big. It won't come out. Something’s wrong…" Bjorn looked over my shoulder as I started crying again, tears or not.  
  
"This baby isn't too big, Ragnhild. It's actually a bit small." I screamed out as another contraction hit. Bjorn had to keep me up as I wanted nothing more than to lie down and try again in a few hours. Just a few moments without pain, then I could face this again.  
  
"What do you mean, it's small?" I whimpered. "This thing has been big ever since -" My eyes went wide as I realized. They had been lying to me, all of them. The secrecy, the firm hand, the strange runes, everything.  
  
The baby could only be small if there was another occupant in my womb to account for the size of my belly. I had been carrying twins all this time, and I had been too ignorant to tell the difference between one and two.  
  
"How long did you all know?"  
  
"Ragnar told me when I sent off the boys," Bjorn told me. He put a hand in my neck, bracing me for whatever was to come.  
  
"It's ill luck to speak of it," Aslaug sneered. "You know what might happen." I pushed down a desire to rage at her. Instead, I almost fell over as I touched my abdomen, wanting to feel it for myself. Bjorn managed to keep me from tumbling down.  
  
"Is it at least coming out with its head first?" I didn't hear the answer as I had to suffer through more cramps.  
  
"You have to push harder. Come on, Ragnhild. If you don't start pushing for real now, you'll lose them both." I'd never let that happen. I'd die for one of them, but two... How much more could I give?  
  
My babies. My little sweet pea, and... The other one. The son Aslaug had been telling everyone about, and the girl I knew was in there as well. Twins... If Bjorn hadn't been back here in time, I would have had to raise both of them on my own.  
  
"The Seer told me once you would give me more than I could ever wish for," Bjorn whispered. "My beautiful Ragnhild... You will get through this." I braced myself for another push, and this time I gave it all I had left. I screamed at Bjorn's chest as he held me, and I felt the agony of my hips trying to let my child pass into this world.  
  
"Almost! Just a bit more!" The contraction died down, but I was almost there. Just a few more minutes of this brutal agony, and I would hold my child in my arms. Bjorn stroked me over my head, wiping the hair from my face.  
  
"I'm so proud of you. Just a little longer, and you'll hold our child in your arms."  
  
"Bjorn..." If he hadn't been here, this would have been impossible. I would have collapsed from exhaustion, I would have never found the strength to get to this point. "I don’t… I can’t… Aah!" A last scream, and a last push, then I felt how the baby came out of me.  
  
"It's a girl!" I had done it. I'd given birth to a wonderful, screaming child. Bjorn caught me before I hit the floor, then helped me lie on my back. Only then did he leave my side, after hours of labor. I almost dozed off, too tired to register anything. "She's beautiful," I heard him say. I had trouble focusing on his eyes, but as I felt him lay our little girl in my arms I woke up again. She was... Tiny. Her wails blocked out the noise from the hall. She was fighting for air, complaining of the cold she was now exposed to.  
  
"My little sweet pea," I breathed as I held her close. Aslaug put a tiny blanket over her as she was still in my arms.  
  
"We can't name her yet," Bjorn warned me. It hurt to hear it, but I knew it was true. "Only after nine days." Nine fucking days. It was ridiculous to not see her as a human being now, tiny as she was. I would never let go of her, she was already too dear to me.  
  
"She'll make it," I promised him. I already knew what I would want to call her, but I didn't want to tempt the gods. "I know she will, you'll see." He tried to have her grab onto his finger, but she was more concerned with crying and making sure we knew she was alive.  
  
"Bjorn, the chord." He tore his eyes away, then took the knife Helga offered. She had already tied off the ends, so all Bjorn had to do was cut it through. He was back at my side, eyes focused on our daughter before Helga had taken back the knife. "She’s beautiful," I breathed. Her screams died down a little when I covered her feet a bit better.  
  
"You both are," Bjorn promised. "Just look at those tiny fingernails." He pulled me close, wrapping one arm around each of the women in his life.  
  
"Ragnhild." Helga's voice had gone soft. "Are you ready?" The second one needed to come out. It felt like it was too early, but so far Helga had been right about most things. Bjorn made to take our daughter from me, but I didn't want to let go of her yet. I had to be turned around again, back into the birthing position.  
  
As I sat up a bit, a violent contraction caught me off-guard. I pushed, almost automatically, and without any shouting, or cursing, or help from Helga, the baby came out. I laughed a bit, seeing the surprised faces around me. If someone could promise me every birth would be this easy from now on, I would have no problems with getting pregnant again.  
  
"It's a boy," Helga said as she snapped out of it. "I've never seen one slide out that easily." All kinds of things were said, but I was just focused on his shouting. He was filling his lungs with air, he was alive. He too was fighting for his right to exist in the cold and dreary hall. I could rest now, it was over.  
  
Aslaug placed him in my arms, and I saw why he came out this easily. He was even smaller than the girl, and she had done her best to stretch me out as much as she could. Already she was looking out for her brother.  
  
"I will pray to the gods at least one of them will survive," Aslaug said with a kind smile. I was too tired to snap at her, but she knew to get lost as she saw me looking at her. Helga got some more sage to burn around the twins, hoping to purify them of the birth. I just wanted her to put it out, thinking the acrid smell wouldn't help the twins in any way.  
  
"She's almost done," Bjorn whispered. He must have seen me looking.  
  
"I was hoping to talk to you about this. I'm happy to oblige to your customs, but there are certain traditions I like to bring into it as well."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"No smoke around the babies. They need to breathe clean air, not this stuff. It's enough to make me feel sick, just think how it'll affect them."  
  
"They need to be cleansed, Ragnhild. You can't object to them starting their life clean, now can you?"  
  
"What could they possibly need to be cleansed of? They're barely five minutes old." I sat up a bit, much to Helga's dislike.  
  
"The afterbirths aren't out yet," Helga said. I hardly noticed she was between my legs again. It just hurt, a lot. "I know you're tired, but I need you to stay awake for a bit longer. I want to keep an eye on you." I just wanted to sleep, and I wanted to name my children. After that, they could no longer be harmed without it being considered murder, or assault. Having a name would only make it easier for them to survive, it meant they had something to cling on to.  
  
"Ah, there she is." Ragnar came in, with the boys in tow. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I just pushed out two babies out of my vagina." Ragnar couldn't disagree with that. Hvitserk and Sigurd crawled up to me, eager to take a look at the tiny bundle in my arms.  
  
"Is this my new sister?" Hvitserk asked.  
  
"This is a boy, actually. I got you one of each." His eyes went wide in delight, then his face turned into a pout.  
  
"But that means I'll only get to play with one of them at best." I would need to have a serious conversation with Aslaug about what she told her sons.  
  
"No, it means you have to be extra careful with them for now. He's doing fine as far as I can tell, and so is his sister." I pulled him a little closer, making sure the blanket didn't leave his feet uncovered. My sweet boy, he was so small. He couldn't have been inside of me longer than seven months.  
  
No wonder I'd had trouble pinpointing when they were conceived. I was such an idiot. I'd been counting the moons, not the months. They were conceived in Paris, one of the first days there. They looked nowhere near big enough to be a whole moon older.  
  
"So now we wait," Ragnar said gravely. Everyone was way too gloomy for my taste. They were acting as though the twins had already died, and it made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to be happy to have two beautiful babies. I needed them to cheer up.  
  
"Could you save the afterbirths for me, Helga? There's this one tradition from back home I'd like to adhere to."  
  
"And what would that be?" Ragnar had always been eager to hear more of where I came from, and already his seriousness dwindled.  
  
"As soon as I can stand up, I bake a cake."  
  
"A cake?" Hvitserk was listening carefully as well.  
  
"Yes, a very special one. I cut up the afterbirths and put them inside, and then we eat them. Where I come from, it's called a mother cookie. Then I share it with all those I love, to ask for their help protecting the children. It's a very big honor to be asked to participate." Hvitserk looked a bit horrified as he realized he would have to eat the soggy, bloody blob Helga pulled out of me. He swallowed, hard, then took a deep breath.  
  
"I'll protect my new sister and my new brother, even if it means I have to eat a nasty cake." I almost felt bad for having pulled such a prank on Ragnar, only for it to land on Hvitserk. Bjorn started laughing, he knew there were barely any such customs where I came from. In fact, it had been one of my fears that I'd be forced to eat my own afterbirth to please some obscure goddess.  
  
Ragnar must have heard the same tales of how horrible the Northmen must have been, as he chuckled as he rubbed Hvitserk over his head.  
  
"You really would eat it, wouldn't you?" Hvitserk didn't look up from the floor, but he nodded all the same. I saw Ubbe roll his eyes, then turn his attention back to our daughter. He held onto her hand a bit, and he looked like he was seeing a corpse. Everyone was giving them the same dreaded look again, as if they were just waiting for one of them to die. So much for my attempt to lighten the mood.  
  
"Alright, that's it." I pulled the attention back to myself. "If you can't even pretend to be happy for me and Bjorn, leave us be. I don't need you all looking like I gave birth to stillborn children. Either be happy or get out."  
  
"Honey?"  
  
"No, I'm serious Bjorn. The twins should be surrounded by laughter and joy, they should be welcomed here and feel like they belong. Right now, I don't even want to be here. This isn't a funeral, and I'll be damned if I let you bring me down. I should feel like the happiest woman on the world now, and instead I feel like we just buried someone." Not even Bjorn seemed to agree with me, but it wasn't like I was able to get up and leave myself. I'd probably spend the day here, catching up on my sleep, while Bjorn saw to the necessary sacrifices and rituals he as the father would have to perform.  
  
"Frigg has already decided on their fate. All we can do is wait," Ragnar said. It all boiled down to that.  
  
"If it truly was fated, then why did you not tell me I was carrying twins? Did you not mean to keep me calm, so there was a bigger chance of them both surviving? Why try and influence fate then, and not now? Get out, I have to feed them anyway. I've no desire to show you all my boobs." Ragnar took the boys away, but Bjorn and Helga remained behind.  
  
"You can't start a riot, Ragnhild." Bjorn came a little closer, Siggy his arms. "I warned you about this kind of thing."  
  
"And you also promised you wouldn't underestimate me. I may not have known about giving birth, but I sure as Helheim know how to make sure children survive." Helga helped me to get my son to latch on. He had a little trouble with it, as he lacked the strength to get the milk out.  
  
"It's no use, he'll have to drink some goat's milk." Helga already made to call out, but I stopped her.  
  
"Let me try with the girl first. She's stronger, she can get it flowing. They've only been inside of me for a little under eight moons, they came very early. He just lacks the strength, that's all."  
  
"How can you know that, if you can't even get him to latch on by yourself?"  
  
"Sometimes, she just knows things," Bjorn responded, sighing as he said the words. "I find it best not to ask until she's calmed down a bit."  
  
"That reminds me of Floki." Between the three of us, we switched around positions and babies until the girl was in my arms, sucking at a nipple until something would come out. She waved around her tiny little fists in protest, whining a bit at her futile attempts.  
  
"Ah, there we go." She calmed down a bit as she finally got something for her efforts. "See, I told you."  
  
"She's stubborn, at the least," Helga said with a smile. "She did come out with her behind first." No wonder she took a while to deliver.  
  
"I bet she was holding onto her brother, she didn't want to be separated from him yet. That's why he came out so easily, he just wanted to be with his sister." I softly moved a finger over her cheek, causing her to open her eyes. They were beautiful, a lush green that reminded me of forests in springtime. She would be beautiful, the envy of the town. Of the country.  
  
"Ragnhild." I looked up at the urgency in Bjorn's voice.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"The boy, he... I think he's having trouble breathing." That damn sage burning, and then the effort of having to suck so hard for nourishment...  
  
"Take off your shirt." In the silence that fell, I could hear his troubled breathing. "Do it, now. You need to hold him close, he needs to feel your warmth. Hold his head to your heart and walk around a bit." I wanted nothing more than to yank the boy out of his arms and hold him close, but Siggy was fussing enough as it was.  
  
"We need to call in Vinh," Bjorn said, his voice sounding urgent.  
  
"Over my dead body. She'll just want to cut open his arteries. Bjorn, please. Trust me. I was right about Ubbe, and I'm right about this. Don't force me to get up and do it myself." He got up and let Helga help him take off his shirt.  
  
"And now what?"  
  
"Talk to him. Just use a soothing voice, you could tell him about Borg getting blood-eagled for all I care, just let him know you're there. He needs to hold onto something."  
  
"That mother of yours is insane," he told our son. His breathing still sounded a bit labored as he started to fuss a bit. "She'll be the death of me one of these days, you'll see." I smiled down at my girl, and couldn't help feeling proud, and happy. My little sweet pea, who would be known as Siggy. She had her fill and let go of my nipple.  
  
"There's a good girl," I whispered. "You are just amazing, you know that? Yes, just ignore the others. They're jealous, that's all. You'll do amazing things, one day. I just know it."  
  
"I wish you could see them," I heard Bjorn say. "They look beautiful, both of them. I'll need your help to protect them. If your sister is anything like your mother, she'll be a handful. And I don't want to be outnumbered, I'm going to need you, little man." Helga put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a smile, then she left us alone.  
  
"You see them, Siggy? They think they can take us on, but we'll be the ones to protect them. Just wait and see, they're useless without us." She let out a terrible yawn for a girl so small. "Oh, I know how you feel. I'm tired as well, you were quite the one to get out. You just had to be first, didn't you?"  
  
"I think it's working," Bjorn said a bit surprised. "He’s getting a bit calmer."  
  
"Keep going for a bit, all the same, we don't want him to get worse again."  
  
"How did you know this would work?"  
  
"Because you were able to help me, as well. I don't know what happened to you, but there's this... You've matured. It's like you have this calm over you. And I know that a baby as small as he isn't able to regulate its own heartbeat and breathing as well as he should since he came out so early. He's following your lead." Bjorn put a finger on the back of our son's ribs and glanced around for a bit, then smiled.  
  
"You really just know things, don't you?"  
  
"I do. I was serious before, about kicking out your father and the boys. If they keep acting like they are watching the twins die, I don't want them anywhere near us. The twins can't see beyond our eyes when we hold them in our arms, and they can barely hear. They're very sensitive to the mood of the people around them, and they will need all the help they can get. After all the trouble they've caused me, I'm not taking any chances. I'd rather die myself than have to lose one of them." Bjorn lay down next to me, on his side. He made sure our son was close to Siggy, then kissed me as he pulled up the furs that now covered all of us.  
  
"I thought I still had a lot to teach you, but it seems you're the one to teach me again."  
  
"We'll never stop teaching each other." I let out a huge yawn but didn't want to go to sleep yet. "I'll need your help."  
  
"I know. Someone has to make sure no one gets any funny ideas about what will happen to our children."  
  
"That, too. But I was talking of something different, actually. I need you to get my milk flowing." Finally, a crack in his calm, cool armor. He hadn't had any time to hear about what was expected of him, and he was in for one hell of a ride.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I need you to massage my breasts, so our son can drink a little easier. Goat’s milk is not what he needs."  
  
"And how do I do that?"  
  
"Just do what you always do, with your hands." I cast him a coy smile.  
  
"What, now? Here?"  
  
"Don't tell me you don't want to touch them." I felt his hips move around a bit, he was getting hard. Still, Bjorn maintained his calmness as his fingers softly moved over my breasts, moving from the top down to my nipple.  
  
"We're not supposed to drink before the child," he said as his held his eyes locked on the nipple. "I've heard the rumors and saw the pleasant faces of the new fathers around here." He was better prepared than I thought.  
  
"You won't drink yet, I just need you to get it to the surface. Your son needs it to survive." I needn't say more. Bjorn gently, ferociously, attacked. His lips closed around the whole of my nipple, grunting as he softly nipped at it. Siggy slept through it, but our boy started fussing a little, as if he could sense he would soon get something to eat. I gently stroked his head as Bjorn kept on tugging at the nipple, teasing out whatever milk was already in my breast. A soft groan escaped my mouth as I felt his teeth sink in softly.  
  
"That'll do," he said, licking his lips as he sat up. "Do you need to sit up for this again?"  
  
"Yes, if you could take - her, I'll be fine." I'd almost spoken her name out loud, and Bjorn had caught on.  
  
"Nine days," he reminded me as he got Siggy from my belly. "Don't mess with this one." Despite his words of warning, he looked terrified of dropping her, or hurting her.  
  
"I won’t," I whispered as I picked the boy up, equally as fearful. "It's hard for me, but I'll pull through. Go show her off, I'll be fine. The more skin she can feel the better. I know it's unconventional, but this is really important. It helps them breathe somehow. I don't know how, but it works." Bjorn had seen it with his own eyes just a few minutes ago. He was careful to cover the rest of her with a clean blanket to keep her from the nippy breeze that passed through the hall.  
  
"You just want to see me naked, don't you?"  
  
"More than anything. " Bjorn placed a kiss on my forehead and took off, followed by an excited murmur of people wanting to know how the baby was doing. Our boy had a little trouble latching on again, but I kept going until he found what he was looking for. His eyes went open wide as he took me in, gently feeding on the first of my milk. He was perfect.  
  
I was trying to come up with a name, but none seemed to really fit. He'd need a fine one, at the least, a strong one to instill fear into his enemies. He would live, and he would be Bjorn's heir. This tiny boy would one day be the king of Kattegat, if not all of Norway.  
  
"Ragnhild?" As I looked up I saw Hvitserk walking towards me, not at all fazed I was breastfeeding. It must have been a common sight to him, as Aslaug still fed Ivar.  
  
"What is it?" I kept my eyes on the boy in my arms but did put an arm around Hvitserk's shoulder as he crawled up to me.  
  
"Why does everyone out there say she's beautiful?" Hvitserk asked me in a hushed voice. I had to laugh at that. I had always thought babies looked ugly as hell when they were first born, too.  
  
"Because it's polite to say so. To me and Bjorn, they are the most beautiful things in the world. We can only see all the good things that will happen to them."  
  
"So everyone's lying?"  
  
"Don't worry about it," I told him. "If you ever have a baby of your own, you'll know how it feels." The boy was done feeding. His stomach was probably still tiny, as well. I moved him down a bit, laying his head on my chest. I almost cried of pure bliss as Hvitserk softly touched his head. I still felt tired to the bone, but the sight of them kept me awake.  
  
"Then I think they look beautiful as well," Hvitserk concluded.  
  
"Thank you for saying that, Hvitserk."  
  
"His hands are so tiny, though. Is this one even smaller?"  
  
"Yes. They came out too early so they will have to grow a little extra now they are here."  
  
"Mother told us not to bother with this one because he is too small. Why are you holding him like that?"  
  
"Because he will live, and anyone that says otherwise is lying. You know how I told you that story about having to believe in fairies so they could get better? Every time someone says he will die, you just tell them they need to believe in him. Those nine days will be gone before you know it. Then he will have a name, and he will live."  
  
"Get going, you," Bjorn said with a smile. He must have been watching us for a bit. "Ragnhild needs to sleep for herself, she’s been up all night. I’ll keep watch over her." Hvitserk looked like he wanted to give Bjorn a piece of his mind, about knowing how to take care of me just fine. His bottom lip almost disappeared.  
  
"It’s okay, little man. You go tell everyone to believe in your niece and nephew." Looking like a man on a mission, Hvitserk set out to the hall again. Bjorn and I chuckled as we heard him tell off Ubbe and his father for looking so sad.  
  
"Get some sleep, love." I looked up at Bjorn, who seemed perfectly content with Siggy sleeping in his arms. "You earned it."  
  
"I love you," I said as I crawled down a bit, deeper underneath the furs.  
  
"Not as much as I love you. That's impossible."  
  
"Don't underestimate me," I warned him. I let out a huge yawn. My body was finally complying with my need to get some rest. With the boy lying on my chest, my fingers holding onto his tiny hand, I felt blessed.  
  
"I wouldn't dream of it." Bjorn kissed me goodnight and I drifted off.


	106. The Naming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-01-803

"She's already turning those children soft. Did you hear what she told queen Aslaug?"   
  
"Yes, how despicable is that? I'm surprised those babies even lasted until the ninth day. They'll get worse soon, you'll see." I pulled Siggy a little closer, not wanting her to hear such filth. If those bitches knew I was sitting behind them, only a curtain separating us, they wouldn’t have dared gossip about me like this.  
  
"Just imagine a woman like that trying to raise a boy, or a girl for that matter. It's sickening. The things she has Bjorn do, honestly…"  
  
"Just the worst. Even if those children make it, they will die from having the same bleeding heart as her, it's such a shame. The gods should -"  
  
"You ladies wouldn't be talking about my family now, would you?" Bjorn's voice sounded menacing. Had he spoken to me like that, I'd have run for the hills. The calm and steadiness he had found over the winter had made him stronger, and I loved him for it. Had he not been back in time, I would have lost my mind.  
  
"Oh, of course not! Bjorn, you know us. We love you, and your fiancée. We would never talk ill of either of you."  
  
"Or the children, of course. I mean, twins! What a wonder to behold, and to keep them both, what strong faith you must have..." This could only get worse. I knew about the friendly advice people had come to drop off, to discard one of the twins so the other would have a better chance of survival. I had no taste for it, any of it. Bjorn had kept them away from our door, sending them off as soon as he caught the drift of their so-called wise words, but I knew. The village expected me to sacrifice one of the twins to save the other.   
  
The truth of it was that they just didn't understand. They didn't know any better. They were not like Bjorn, willing to hear me out. They didn't see the use of even trying to keep them both alive, or the need to. It was the way their world worked, but they were not us. They did not know what 1200 year of medical advancement would mean for the survival rate of babes like them.   
  
"Are you sure you are ready for this?" I looked up at Ragnar, who looked concerned. He must have caught most of the conversation happening behind me. "They will keep on talking like that for a while."  
  
"If you're suggesting I pick one of them to leave them to the wolves to benefit the other, you don't know me at all. I'd rather die myself." He gave me a pitying look, as if to say I had no idea what I was getting myself into.  
  
"You do know why we honor those nine days, right?"  
  
"I do," I snapped, remembering the time Ivar was born. "And I think they're just a waste of sacrifices and time. There's no reason to assume the gods want one of them dead. I meant it then Ragnar, and I mean it now. If you can't be happy for us, then get the fuck out." He just sighed, softly stroking a thumb over the side of my face.  
  
"How wonderful your world must be, to not fear for every child that is born."  
  
"How sad this one is, that you don’t realize every child needs love to help them grow stronger," I said, staring at him with angry eyes. He must have known I would give it my all to keep both of them safe. I did the same for his sons.   
  
"I will love them just as fiercely as you, after today. You'll see." He bent down and tried to touch Siggy, but I pulled her away before he could touch her. He had no right to act like her grandfather, not after the past week.   
  
"But I will remember these past days for a long time, Ragnar." He grew irritated at my words.  
  
"Did I not allow my sons to come and see them after they were born? What if one of them had died, and the boys were already bonding? Do you not know how much it hurts to lose the ones you love?"  
  
"Better than you know," I sighed. "I lost the love of my life once."  
  
"Bjorn came back to you."  
  
"I wasn't talking of Bjorn. I wasn't exactly chaste before I came here in case you can't recall." I forced down my anger, seeing it made no sense to hurt Ragnar over my past heartache. "He died, in an accident. We had been together for two years."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Can’t you see? Are you really that blinded by your ways? Would you rather never have had Gyda in your life, than to have had her for the time you did?" He looked ready to strike me. His one daughter, in between all of the sons. The second-born he just might have loved all the more, despite his thirst for more sons.  
  
"What do you know of her?" he spat.  
  
"Bjorn is not afraid to talk about her. He rather thinks of the fond memories he has of her than remain stuck in the pain and sadness. Behind every pain, no matter how big, is happiness. Don't tell me I lack the strength to make the tough decisions. I made the decision to meet the possibility of pain head-on, as did Bjorn. And now we are rewarded with two healthy, happy children."  
  
"They could still die. " My anger flared up hotter than ever. I'd never heard such filth, and never before had I felt the urge to defend anyone like this before.  
  
"Then I will cry regardless, and weep, and suffer. But I will at least have had these past few days with them. I will remember the sight of Bjorn as he held our boy to his chest. I will remember the smell of them, and the sounds they make. The girl is already trying to walk, did you know that?"  
  
"She's not even old enough to hold up her head." I held out the baby to show him. As soon as her feet hit my knees, she stepped up with her left foot. Ragnar's eyes widened as he saw. He was ignorant of the many reflexes a baby had, and I would damn well use it to prove a point.  
  
"Children need love to grow strong. I thought coming back to Sigurd last summer had taught you that." I lifted up Siggy in my arms and left him behind. The only reason I was here at all was to finally announce to the world what names Bjorn and I had decided on. Ragnar had decided on a huge celebration, instead of a small ritual at home. In exchange, Bjorn had promised to do whatever I asked of him where the twins were concerned until then, and that had convinced me. But now I hesitated, seeing only how things could possibly go wrong. The twins were too young to handle such a loud gathering, they would start crying soon. It was too warm and stuffy in here, and too many people still felt like they would die.   
  
"Ragnhild!" Just the sound of his voice was enough to make me look up with a grand smile.  
  
"Hvitserk, how good to see you again. I missed you, how have you been?" He let out an exasperated sigh.  
  
"It was so tiring! I had to tell people to believe in the twins every day, sometimes even five times!" He held out his hand, fingers outstretched for me to count. That boy was the reason I still held onto some sense of sanity. I knew Hvitserk was more than able to get people to go along with him, and Ragnar had kept him away from me on purpose over the last week, knowing just how quick he was to love anyone I deemed a good person.  
  
"Then I'm sure you told enough people to make them believe as well." I sank down to my knees, letting him see Siggy again.  
  
"She's looking so much better! Do you have a name already? I had some ideas, and I told Bjorn when he was here a few days ago. Did you pick those ones?"  
  
"I'm not supposed to tell that yet, you little chipmunk. You'll love the names, I'm sure of it." He tried to keep in a pout as he inspected Siggy’s fingers. It was like he was counting if they were all there.  
  
"Okay... I'll wait. I know what happens when I don't listen to you." He was gone before I could ask him what that comment was about. I had missed more than I had thought, in Paris and then while I was pregnant.  
  
I got to my feet and looked out over the crowd from beyond the leather strip curtains. I had a bad feeling about this, and I just couldn't put a name to it. Siggy was content in my arms, but I felt far from calm. I needed Bjorn. His calm would soothe me. Just locking eyes with him from across the hall was enough to give me strength. He cocked his head a bit, asking if he should come over. I shook my head a little, just seeing him was enough. But still, as I put on a brave smile, he made his way over, holding our son in his arms as if he was protecting the most precious thing in his life. And in a way, he was.  
  
I went further back for just a bit, out of sight from the prying eyes.  
  
"What's wrong?" Bjorn sat down next to me on his father’s bed, looking just as tired as me.  
  
"I just want this to be over. I want to go home, and have the twins sleep through the night, and let you fuck my brains out."  
  
"Well, maybe that last part... Hey, don't hide away." Bjorn put his free hand on my back as he kissed me on the top of my head. I’d meant to hide away in his arms. "We did it. We made it, and now we get to say their names. You were right about so many things, you made sure both of them survived." I couldn't even remember all I'd said and done. All I knew was that I wanted to sleep more than three hours straight, if only for half a night.  
  
"I’m not in the mood to have to talk to a crowd today. I just want to go home and spend a quiet day with you," I said, implying that a day without the twins would make me feel better. At the same time, the thought of having to leave them behind tore me to pieces.  
  
"I'll go first, you probably remember all those names better than me anyway."  
  
"It is quite a mouthful," I admitted. "And I worry about what all those hags are going to say."  
  
"Just send them over to me, I'll handle them."  
  
"But you're doing so much already."   
  
"And you have to be awake for every feeding, and you are still recovering from giving birth. Don't feel guilty for not having recovered after nine days. We're doing this together, it’s about time I started pulling my weight."  
  
"You’ve gone up against the entire village, by yourself. I don’t think the naming will make all of it disappear."  
  
"Yes, against everything everyone believes in. Because I believe in you, and you believe in me. I don’t care if I won’t sleep through the night for an entire year or have to fight off those idiots for the rest of my life. Just looking at them makes it all worth it to me. When I look at you with them in your arms, and you want to make sure I see how well they are drinking, I fall in love with you all over again." Bjorn continued to surprise me. He knew exactly what I needed to hear, and he meant every word of it. I knew he felt guilty for not being here during the hardest part of my pregnancy, but seeing how he had come back, I would have sent him off myself.   
  
"Just what did you do out there?" I asked as I leaned into his side.   
  
"I fought a bear."  
  
"Are you sure you didn't drink from Mímir's well? Sometimes I feel like you’re wiser than me."  
  
"Well, there was this strange tankard I found behind some firewood... But most of all, I realized just how amazingly tough you are. There were so many times you only got by on determination and grit. I knew I couldn't come back to you without finding that for my own." I leaned in for a kiss.  
  
"You say all these sweet things to me, and I feel too tired to come up with a way to tell you how much I love you."  
  
"Just wait until I’m as sleep deprived as you are. We’ll have to talk about getting some help before it gets to the point I forget your name."  
  
"Excuse me, Bjorn? Ragnhild? King Ragnar would like to commence the ceremony." Idu looked like she was very aware she was interrupting an intimate moment. Still, she waited until we got up. I took over the boy, while Bjorn held onto Siggy. We made our way to the front, facing the village that had seemed to be against us ever since the birth.  
  
"Settle down everyone!" People were craning their necks, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bundles in our arms as Ragnar tried to get the crowd to pay attention to him. "The gods saw fit to bless my son and Ragnhild with twins. Despite the odds, they have both survived up until now. We all know how rare that is, but we should have known better than to doubt them." I glanced behind me, wondering what this speech was all about. Bjorn kept his cool a lot better than me.   
  
"Relax," he whispered in my ear.   
  
"As we all know, Ragnhild is the Vessel of Freyja. She knew from the moment they were born that the twins would both survive, and indeed they have. Her strength and determination are only equaled by that of my son. Together they have proven to be worthy of their children, and I know, I am just as determined, that these babes will thrive and make Kattegat an even better place to live." He gestured to us, nodding ever so slightly in my direction. Somehow my words had gotten through to him, and he had declared himself to stand behind us and our weird ways of keeping the twins alive. I should get mad at him like that more often.  
  
All those whispers, how unnatural it was to walk around the house with the twins skin to skin, the complaints from the neighbors at the ungodly times we had woken up to feed them almost every two hours, the prying eyes we had sent off packing, and Ragnar had defended us on our actions and decisions.   
  
Bjorn took a step forward, and Ubbe came up carrying a bowl filled with salt and soil, closely followed by Hvitserk, carrying a bowl of water. Bjorn went to his knees and took some of the salt and soil to put it on Siggy's forehead.  
  
"In the name of Odin, I bless this girl, who will be named Siggy Bjornsdottir. May she prevail in battle, and her enemies be strong." He sprinkled some water over the salt and soil on her forehead. She fussed a bit at the cold of the water but didn't start crying yet. With pride surging through my body I watched Bjorn get to his feet again and take in the room.   
  
"I'd like you all to meet Siggy. She is the firstborn and is named after the wife of the previous earl. After he was defeated by my father, she took on service under my mother, Lagertha. When my father and mother divorced, she went on to serve Aslaug, our queen. Her devotion knew no bounds. She had lost everything she had, then found love and a new family. She lost her life saving my younger brothers, Ubbe and Hvitserk. I am certain our Siggy will live up to her name." The crowd burst out in a roar of celebration. Most people here had known Siggy well and were happy to have her name live on. I comforted our son, who was surprised by the sudden noise, his tiny fists held next to his head as if to fight the whole room by himself.   
  
Our daughter could no longer be harmed without the laws being put in motion. She was safe, and she would live. She was accepted. As the crowd simmered down again, it was my turn to speak. The bundle in my arms had quieted down as the noise subsided. I didn't hear a peep out of Siggy. She already seemed eager to do everything first and better.   
  
Bjorn blessed our boy in the same way as Siggy as I held him in my arms, aided by Ubbe and Hvitserk. The latter gave me a stupid fat grin as he almost spilled the water over my son's face. When I stood up, I saw all the expectant looks on the faces of our friends more clearly than those of the nay-sayers who had gossiped and complained about us.  
  
"I'd like you all to meet Thormund. He is the secondborn and is named after a well-known Viking from my homeland. He was known by many names. Thormund Giantsbane. Thormund Thunderfist. Thormund Horn-Blower. Thormund Tall-Talker. He was a speaker to gods, father of hosts, and breaker of ice. May his legend live on in our son." The crowd cheered again. It kept on going this time, and by the time Bjorn and I looked up from our kiss, there were people lining up to meet Thormund, as well as hear tales about this legendary Viking they hadn't known about. Ale was flowing, and music played in the background. For all her harsh words, Aslaug had put together a fine celebration. Ubbe and Hvitserk came running to the front of the line, and I couldn't help but let them cut in front. I bent down and let them see my son.   
  
"He's still so tiny," Ubbe said astonished. "I thought he would have grown a bit by now."  
  
"You were just as tiny once, but you were still inside of your mother's belly then."  
  
"No way. I came out big and strong." For all the mature things Ubbe had done lately, the sight of such a tiny baby made him feel comfortable enough to feel like a child again, at least for now. It warmed my heart to see him cheerful again, he was too young to feel like he had any responsibilities other than being happy.  
  
"Ivar's still small, and I'm sure you remember Sigurd being just as tiny. I know I do."  
  
"Yeah, but they're our brothers. Of course they'll grow up strong," Ubbe said, as if it wasn’t even a question. Hvitserk piped up at that.   
  
"Thormund will become big and strong as well! I'll teach him. I've been practicing a lot lately, when can I teach him? I really like the names like you told me, I'll take care of Siggy as well! She's my sister after all." I laughed at that. Ubbe, the one who always had to see and notice everything, and Hvitserk, always ready to take care of those smaller than him. They would always have a special place in my heart. They ran off, wanting to see Siggy again as well.   
  
I got up again, talking to the people who had gathered around me. Those who had complained the most were most eager to see him, but I refused to let anyone hold him. There was more than enough excitement happening around them, they didn't need to get torn away from me just yet.  
  
Thormund started to fuss a bit, but I let him as I talked to some of the people that hadn’t dropped by with their words of wisdom. I was starved for some conversation that wasn’t about breast milk, swaddling, or stool. After a few minutes his fussing turned into a wail, and I excused myself. That sound could only mean one thing. I went behind the leather-strip curtain and started feeding him. As I got Thormund to latch on, Sigurd came my way.   
  
"Well, hello there. Do you want to say hi to Thormund as well?"  
  
"No," he said. "I want a story." He must have missed me. Like his older brothers, he preferred my stories above those his mother told him. He tried to get on my lap, but with Thormund feeding, there was barely any room.   
  
"Oh, sweety, I know you want to, but you can't. Why don't you sit beside me?"   
  
"You spent time with him already, now it's my turn. Put it away!" Sigurd started wailing as he pulled on my arm. With me barely having spent time with him, he must have felt lonely. I knew Aslaug barely looked at him, and Ragnar must have had other things on his mind as well. And with all the talk being about the twins, he must have felt rejected even more than usual.  
  
"I can't, Thormund is drinking." Sigurd's cries went through my bones, and I so desperately wanted to comfort him, but with Thormund feeding I couldn't. I felt so hopeless. "He'll be done in a minute, don't worry. I'll tell you a story then."  
  
"I want a story now!" Lucky for me, Bjorn came up to us, Siggy fussing in his arms.   
  
"Why are you crying like that, Sigurd? Aren't you happy to see the twins again?"  
  
"No! I want a story, now!"  
  
"Sigurd!" Bjorn shouted back. My heart was breaking, but I didn't have the willpower to intervene. "Thormund needs Ragnhild's attention now, and Siggy is hungry as well. You'll have to wait, or you won't get a story at all." Sigurd stopped crying and started pouting instead. Bjorn sat down next to me, kissing my cheek.   
  
"Thormund is almost done," I promised the boy. He tried to get between Bjorn and me, determined not to give up. Bjorn lifted the toddler up by the collar of his shirt and put him down next to him on the bed. "I just told you, you have to wait." Sigurd looked like he wanted to throw a tantrum, but looking at Bjorn, he thought better of it and slid off the bed, walking away. Bjorn knew I wanted to go after him, but I knew Bjorn would scold me if I did.   
  
"Thank you," I said as I kept my eyes on Thormund. His beautiful dark blue eyes were open wide as he sucked with a fierce determination. He had become so much stronger over the last week.  
  
"He has to get used to them. They are your priority now and will be for some time. He can't go taking up all of your attention anymore."  
  
"I know. But I feel so sorry for him. I can imagine what he's going through. Those boys mean the world to me. I just have to find a way to adapt." Thormund let go of my nipple. Bjorn and I exchanged babies, and I let Siggy feed next. We'd gotten very good at this exchange in the past week. He got up and covered his shoulder with a cloth, then walked around, waiting for Thormund to let out a burp.   
  
"You have been like a mother to them, especially since Ivar was born. I know it's hard for you, but I also know you'll do just fine. If the boys give you any trouble, just send them over to me." That couldn’t be the solution to all of my problems.  
  
"And what will I do when you're off raiding?"  
  
"Are you kidding? I'll stay home this summer. I wouldn't dream of letting you keep these two treasures for yourself that long. And we still have to get married." I didn’t want to think about all the planning that would have to go into that. We hadn’t even set a date yet.   
  
"Well, I wouldn't blame you for wanting some time off. The gods know I could use it. I love them both to death, but I love my sanity as well."  
  
"They can be real monsters," Bjorn admitted. "When they're off your breast, maybe we can spend some time alone again." Despite my lingering fears, he acted like they were out of the woods now that they had their names. I'd have to wait and see for a bit longer, for that to happen. And still...  
  
"I'd like that," I smiled. Some private time with Bjorn was just the thing I needed. I just regretted it would be so far in the future. Siggy stopped drinking, but I knew she would be hungry in a few hours again if I didn’t get her to latch on again. I moved around a bit as I tapped her back, and a tiny burp came out.  
  
"You’re getting good at this," Bjorn said as he sat down. I smiled at Siggy as she latched on again, feeling her suckle was stronger now. "How can you tell when she’s not had enough?"  
  
"She’s been fussy since this morning. I think she didn’t sleep that well, for some reason." Bjorn had gone out early to go over the ceremony with his father and Aslaug, to make sure everything would go according to plan. Hearing that just the barest thing was off made him put his finger to her cheek, his eyes filled with worry.   
  
"Is she getting sick?"   
  
"Not that I can tell. She could just be a bit crabby, it’s too early to tell." Bjorn exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment.   
  
"I thought I couldn’t possibly worry more about anyone than you," he said. "It’s nothing compared to this. Please tell me you feel the same."  
  
"Of course I worry about them all the time, it’s just that I’m too tired to show it. Do you think it’s okay if we head home soon?"  
  
"We’ll have to stay a bit longer. Besides, it’s nice to be out of the house for a bit." Siggy was done for real now. Bjorn already had a cloth in his hands to put over my shoulder for when I burped her. A little milk came back up, but it wasn’t something that freaked us out any longer. Bjorn threw the cloth on top of the laundry pile in the corner as I pulled my dress over my breasts again.   
  
"Why are you hiding them? Don't you know there's nothing more beautiful than a mother?"  
  
"Don't you dare think about that. I'm still sore." But still...  
  
"We can do other stuff..." I was so tempted. I could use the relief. "With so many people here, I'm sure someone will mind them for a while." The thought of letting them both out of our sight was strange, but the knowledge of what could happen... I let myself be tempted.   
  
We got up and gave the babies to Aslaug and Floki, the ones we trusted with them that were closest by, then disappeared again without a word. I couldn't wait to be alone with Bjorn, if only for a moment. Instead of heading towards the exit, he dragged me back behind the curtain. Before I could voice any complaints, his mouth was on mine. My doubts disappeared as my lust grew. It felt so good to be with Bjorn, not having to worry about the babies for just a moment. They had been accepted into the family, they were safe now.  
  
We sat down on the bed and kept kissing. He pulled up my skirts and let his hand wander up my leg. The anticipation was killing me. I longed to feel close to him. It had been so long already... That one quickie before I gave birth hardly counted. As his hand inched upwards, I felt myself getting wet. I started moaning before he even reached my folds. I clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. Bjorn softly pushed me onto my back. When he made to leave my lips, I put a hand in his hair.   
  
"Take me," I whispered. "I don't care how sore I am, I want to feel you inside me." Bjorn didn't know how fast to get out of his clothes. He pulled my skirts all the way up and wasted no time entering. The soreness I felt made me groan a bit, but I kept wanting him. It felt so good to be with Bjorn again. We were together again, as the gods had meant for us to be.  
  
"Ow, fuck," I cursed as I felt the pain take over from the pleasure after just a few thrusts. I felt Bjorn slow down considerably. "Stop, it still hurts too much." I saw he looked disappointed for a bit, but he withdrew. As he did, I groaned a bit and felt my need fly out the window.   
  
"Did I hurt you?"  
  
"A bit. I'm sorry, it's too soon yet." He sighed and rolled down beside me on the bed.   
  
"How much longer do you think we'll need to wait?"  
  
"I don't know," I sighed. "About six weeks, I was told."  
  
"Six weeks?!"  
  
"I'm still sore, I need to heal properly. Otherwise I'll just keep on hurting, according to Aslaug. And Lagertha. And Helga." Bjorn calmed down a bit, but I could see he had been upset. "You've spent longer than six weeks away from me before," I pointed out.   
  
"Exactly, away from you. Having you near me all the time, and with your breasts looking the way they do..." They had become huge, with two babies having to be fed from them. The regular feedings had brought up my milk production considerably.  
  
Bjorn pulled at the lacing and softly massaged them, teasing my sore nipples with butterfly kisses. From my mouth came a moan equal parts relief and anticipation. I loved the feel of him gently lapping at my breasts, teasing out whatever milk was left after the twins were fed. My hands moved through his hair, working out the thong he used to keep it back as I did.   
  
"Oh, my sweet Ragnhild…" He came up for air a bit, nuzzling my neck and collarbone.   
  
"I love you."  
  
"Not as much as I love you," he promised. "That’s impossible."  
  
"Trust me, I love you more." I pulled him close for a kiss, pouring in all the love I felt for him.   
  
"Are you done yet?" I turned around and saw Floki standing, Thormund in his outstretched arms. "Thormund Giantstink needs a change." Bjorn covered up my breasts before he got off me and put on his own pants.  
  
"Don't call him that," I chided as I got up, tying the lacing back up as I made my way over. "His bowels have finally started working consistently, you should be proud of him."  
  
"You want me to be proud your son can poop? That's one of the few things he knows how to do." I took the baby from Floki and wasn't bothered with the smell at all. Floki practically ran away. I rolled my eyes and walked towards my satchel, which now proved to be a very useful diaper bag.   
  
"I'll do it," Bjorn said. He had put his pants back on, but still had his torso bare. As he took Thormund in his arms, I fell in love with the image of my sexy bare-chested Viking with our teeny tiny son in his arms. I'd seen a lot of it already, but every time I saw it again I felt my knees go weak.


	107. The Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-03-803

I was cleaning up after the babies as I noticed something shining on the bottom of Bjorn's clothing chest. I moved to pick it up, and then I realized what it was. The silver ring that seemed to be made of carefully wrought bone was Erlendur's. He must have lost it during his brief stay here. I moved it over to a bowl on a shelf, not wanting to lose it, as well as keep it out of sight of Bjorn. I was sure I'd see him again, and I could give it back someday. I was just starting on dinner when Bjorn came home.   
  
"Hey there, sexy," I said as he kissed my cheek. "Go get changed, I'm already working on dinner." Bjorn got out of his sweaty clothes and checked to see how the twins were doing, then lay down on the bed.   
  
"Father's been talking about the raids. With the ice almost gone he wants to know if I'll join him." Knowing them, they both wanted to convince me to let him go early, so I would have enough time to calm down and let him.   
  
"Where does he want to go?"   
  
"Paris, as far as I know. He'll not want to leave Rollo in charge of the camp there for too long." No wonder Ragnar had been pushing for us to get married soon.  
  
"I don't get how Ragnar still doesn't trust his brother. After him stepping up with Borg... I thought your father didn't hold grudges."  
  
"Rollo's betrayed us before." I heard him sit up, then saw him sit down beside me. "You weren’t here for it, but it was ugly. Floki almost died, and plenty of others did." Floki would mention some names, from time to time. Arne, Leif, Erik… The men that sailed west, of which only a few were left now.   
  
"And I still remember Siggy telling me Rollo endured quite the torture from Haraldson when all of you were hidden away at Floki's. I saw how hard he worked to gain back your father's trust. He'd be a fool to throw it away after years of trying to get it back."   
  
"She did?"  
  
"Yeah. I asked her how she could ever love a man like him, after he tied me to that tree. He made quite the impression on her back then, and when he offered to take care of her after Ragnar became earl she knew he felt the same."  
  
"You do realize that Siggy wasn't just a handmaid, right? She was even more cunning than Aslaug, and she knew what she was doing. Siggy and father often got into disagreements over how to rule the kingdom," Bjorn said as he put a hand on my shoulder. I knew she had a distinct opinion on a lot of things, and that she sometimes tried to explain her views to me.   
  
"I know a little of it. She slept with Horik way back when, to try and get Rollo back in Ragnar's good graces." It hadn’t made a lot of sense to me, but she was convinced it was about something other than cheating, despite Rollo not finding out until right before we left for Paris. I could see how sex could be used to get ahead, I had been willing to do the same. Her reasons were vague, at best, but I hadn’t wanted to pry further.  
  
"Is that what she told you?" Bjorn asked.  
  
"She came clean when I pressed her on it. You know how I feel about cheating."  
  
"I do. She and Rollo had more in mind than just get him back into the fold. Father told me a few weeks back, they meant to take over." After all we'd had to go through with Jarl Borg? Ragnar would need plenty of evidence of that, to think his brother would go and try to pull something like that off without Siggy to help him.  
  
No wonder he wanted to check up on Rollo as fast as possible, and that he would want Bjorn with him. Rollo cared for Bjorn like he was his own son, beyond anything the boys meant to him. Seeing his nephew would calm him down, considerably. "You don't look surprised," Bjorn said.  
  
"There are some things I don't understand. Why would Ragnar have Siggy take me under her wing if he knew she had always planned to go against him?" He looked down at me with pride.  
  
"She could teach you better than Aslaug, and you needed to be taught quickly. You already trusted her, which was a big advantage. No matter their disagreements, if anything were to happen to Ragnar she wanted Rollo to put forward his name, but she knew that if she failed you'd make sure nothing would happen to her. You were her insurance, and she knew you'd do well for the kingdom." If anything, it made me respect her even more. Siggy had been hard about a lot of things, but she knew when to bend. And it meant Siggy was convinced of the fact Ragnar would choose Bjorn to be his heir, eventually. It felt like she was blessing our union even from beyond the grave.  
  
What bothered me most was that I hadn’t even noticed it. Siggy had been playing a whole different game with Ragnar than they did with me, that much was certain. But did this mean that I needed to step up even more, or that I just had to go about it smarter?  
  
"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. I knew she was shrewd, but I didn’t know just how much I underestimated her."   
  
"You're awfully relaxed about finding out what she meant to do. If she had been alive when we came back from Paris…" With Ragnar on the verge of death, she could have made a play. In that regard, it had been good that Rollo had chosen to stay behind in Roskilde for the time being, but as it turned out it could mean trouble for Ragnar in a whole new way. If Rollo would make a deal with the Franks…   
  
"It's not like I can do anything about it now. I still miss her, and I still consider her to be a good friend to me." The ache had gotten to be less over time, but I caught myself thinking what she would tell me from time to time. She helped me keep my cool, she told me to stop worrying about the twins as much, and she was happy to see me bloom like this.  
  
"She would have loved to meet the twins. And to see us get married... She thought it would take me a few years to get you to that point." He pulled the knife from my hand and put it down, taking my hands in his. "Sometimes I can still hardly believe it myself." I had to admit I was still surprised myself. I'd known Bjorn for just two and a half years, and already...   
  
Things were just... Different, here. We spent so much time together, it wasn't like we had day jobs that kept us apart. During the winters there was little else to do but be together, maybe risk a visit to the hall every now and then. We'd overcome huge fights and problems, and he really, truly knew me.   
  
Aside from all the shiny happy feelings, we didn't know if we'd make it past sixty, and that was an age we would be lucky to reach. The fear of losing Bjorn before we were married was certainly something that played a part in it. Moreover, marrying Bjorn would make sure our children stood to inherit if he would die. Or so Ragnar had explained it, it was all still a bit vague to me.   
  
"I'm living in your world now, not mine. There are a lot of practical things to consider, but aside from that I know we'll make it through. I love you, in a way I never thought I would get to." He kissed my hands, then put one of them on his face. "I can't wait to call you my wife." I stroked the stubble on his cheek with my fingers, seeing it made him smile.   
  
"Me, neither," I said as he leaned in for a kiss. "What about the raid? Do you want to join?"  
  
"I promised I'd stay here and help with the kids."  
  
"And I said we'd talk about it later. If you want to go, you can say so." Bjorn seemed to hesitate.   
  
"It depends on when he wants to leave. I want to marry you before we go. I must admit, I like the thought of going raiding again."  
  
"But?" As the snow had started to melt he had become restless. He spent plenty of time training each day again and started talking about previous raids whenever we had a quiet moment.  
  
"But I don't want to leave you alone with the babies if you don't think you can handle it. One baby would probably be fine, but two..."  
  
"They're only waking up once a night now, the hardest part is over."  
  
"We could get a servant of our own to help out." I didn't like that idea, though it did make sense. I didn't relish the thought of owning another person. But I would have some more free time on my hands. I'd be able to spend some more time with the boys, but having someone take care of my children so I could help take care of Aslaug's just seemed wrong. Now that the twins were sleeping on a rhythm I had enough rest to take on the day, but there were still things I needed help with from Bjorn. Running an entire household took most of my time if I would have to do it alone.  
  
"I'm not sure I like that idea. What would I even do with all my free time?"  
  
"Whatever you want. I just want you to have a choice, and not feel obligated just because I want to go raiding." Bjorn got up and wrapped his arms around me. "I want you to be taken care of if I decide to go. You know how bad you are at that."  
  
"That's very sweet of you, but I think I'll manage."  
  
"You always manage, but I want you to be comfortable as well." He kissed the crown of my head and let go of me. I could hear him rummaging around for clean clothes.   
  
"I'm just not sure. I mean, owning another person? Stuff like that doesn't happen anymore when I'm from. There are very strict laws against it." Having it happen to me was one thing, but encouraging the practice was a whole other. Even though it was considered normal here, was I really thinking about this? Just how used was I getting to life here?  
  
"It's just a suggestion, not an announcement. I'd be insane to pick a fight with you this close to the wedding."  
  
"Oh, don't remind me. I'm not looking forward that whole bathing thing." It was supposed to signify my being pure and chaste. The women from my family already married were supposed to help me during the transition, where I leave my innocence behind.   
  
"Who do you even plan on asking to go with?"  
  
"Your mother already offered, and Helga said yes. Aslaug still was a bit hesitant, and I'm not planning on asking her again." We had kept on finding things to disagree over. "I'd ask Torvi, but..." That would mean Erlendur would come here as well. Even mentioning his name was a touchy subject between us.   
  
"That's... Not a lot."  
  
"I don't feel comfortable being naked in front of others anyway, especially after the havoc those little monsters have wreaked on my body." Hollywood had lied to me. Breastfeeding didn’t get rid of my excess fat, it took ages for my stretched-out skin to recover at this rate, and the stretch marks seemed to want to stick around for a while as well. Even my breasts were covered in them.  
  
"Ragnhild, you are beautiful. Not just to me. You have nothing to worry about."  
  
"So you keep saying," I muttered. I tried to get back to cooking, but Bjorn pulled back my arm.  
  
"You just gave birth, what did you expect?"  
  
"Where I come from -"  
  
"You're not there anymore, and we don't have those ridiculous standards. Honestly, I don't understand how that can ever become a thing. You're making sure our children can survive off of your body, did you really expect to get back in shape before they are weaned off? You're still only human, no matter when you were born." We'd still done nothing but graze over the subject, even though it helped put my mind at ease a little to hear him talk like this.   
  
"It doesn't help to see you all lean and shirtless." Bjorn scoffed at my attempt to wave it all away with a joke. His body was still broad from his time away, and the equal stubble on his jawline he could finally grow made him look even fiercer.   
  
"I don't recall you ever had a problem with that before." He let go of me and went back to finding a clean shirt.   
  
"I know, different battles, different scars. I remember you telling me, a lot. I just need a bit of time to accept this is my body now. Honestly, if I had known it would be like this I might have wanted to wait for a few more years." I waited for Bjorn to hack into me about my comment, but he didn’t say a thing. I turned around and saw him searching for something in his chest, not just a shirt. He had thrown plenty of those on the floor.  
  
"Did you go through my stuff?" he asked as he looked up at me. His eyes were no longer kind and warm.  
  
"Siggy managed to aim her spit this afternoon and hit that chest, I wanted to make sure it was all still clean. Are you missing something?"  
  
"There was a ring in here, have you see it?" That one. Shit.   
  
"Oh, that thing. Yeah, it's up on that shelf. Someone must have left it, I thought I'd keep it safe for them." Bjorn walked over to the shelf I had pointed at with my knife.   
  
"Do you know whose ring this is?" I felt an uneasy feeling at that question, intensified by Bjorn’s own cool tone.  
  
"Why do you want to know?" Bjorn's face turned brooding. He sat opposite of me, still bare-chested.  
  
"This scar here wasn't from a wolf. A berserker came after me. He was wearing that ring." A berserker... Someone had tried to kill him.   
  
"And what would that ring mean?" I didn't want to hear the answer. My mind drifted back to the ship, back from Paris. So if he died, I'd have a chance? I wouldn't mind raising his child as my own.  
  
"He got it from the man who sent him to kill me." No, this couldn't be. Erlendur was my friend. Despite the rumors that I had helped make possible, he had supported me in so many ways. Had he thought killing Bjorn would give him his chance? Did he really think I'd turn to him if Bjorn... "Ragnhild. You know who this ring belongs to. Who was it?" I put my hands over my mouth, hoping to cover my heavy breathing. This couldn't be happening. No, it was just too much of a coincidence. Bjorn had brought it back from the wilderness, and it was not like any other ring I had ever seen before. It couldn't be a coincidence.   
  
"Firstly, remember our children are asleep, and I would like to keep it that way. Try not to yell." I took a few steadying breaths, then met his eyes again. The anger I saw in them was unlike anything I'd ever seen. "It’s Erlendur’s." Bjorn's nostrils flared. He smashed a fist on the table, then got up and left, leaving the door wide open. I still couldn't believe it. Erlendur had been my friend. He had helped me in my time of need. He was someone I could trust, despite what everyone else told me.   
  
But Bjorn wouldn't lie about this. And I trusted him more. I stood up and shut the door. I felt sobs trying to work their way up as I tried to force them back down. It was one thing to hear Bjorn tell about how Erlendur and his father had inadvertently tried to kill Ragnar with my trebuchets and had thereby lost the first battle over Paris, but such a direct attempt on the life of the man I loved beyond all reason... I sank down against the door, feeling hurt and used. Luckily, the twins were still asleep. Mommy needed to be the one to cry now.


	108. The Bathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-03-803

Ever since the subject of Erlendur's ring had come up, we had ignored it. I still had trouble dealing with the fact Erlendur would go that far over something dumb I'd once said, while Bjorn was keeping more to himself as he spent time brooding over the ring. After being pregnant and then sleep-deprived, I felt well-rested for the first time in over half a year, and it meant I had plenty of energy to have it eat at me.  
  
When Helga and Lagertha came to pick me up for the bathing, I felt glad to escape the suffocating silence of staying at home with the twins most of my days. An unpleasant tension had taken hold of the house whenever we fell silent, making me feel glad that I wouldn’t see him for a few days until the wedding.  
  
“Relax,” Bjorn said as he held me in his arms. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, the twins are with their grandparents for the day, and I can’t wait to see you again at the wedding.” I took a moment to clear my mind, knowing he had addressed my three biggest worries in just a few seconds.   
  
“I already made some rolls for breakfast tomorrow, you just need to put them out by the fire.”  
  
“Did you put in some bacon?” he asked with a sly smile.   
  
“Of course I did. And a little cheese, as well.”   
  
“You’re the best. I’ll need it after tonight.” I wanted to tell him to be careful, but I knew he would be. Digging up some old, ancient family sword and then drinking himself into a stupor with his friends was a lot less dangerous than going to Vegas for his bachelor’s party. He wouldn’t wake up to a dead stripper.  
  
After my bathing, I would head over to Floki and Helga’s to spend the night as I wasn’t supposed to see Bjorn until the wedding once it had happened. Bjorn would sleep at home tonight, then get all his things and go over to the hall while I got the night before the wedding in our bed. The most terrifying part was having to let go of the wedding planning and trusting everyone knew what they were doing, I couldn’t change anything anymore.   
  
“I love you.”  
  
“I love you, too.” After a last fierce kiss we said goodbye, both smiling. It was nice to have this fond memory to cling to for the days to come. As long as Erlendur was out of the picture, we were happy. Still, after we got out of the town, making slow time as Helga wasn’t able to sit a horse and gallop with her child at six months, my mind wandered back to the fights.   
  
“I tell you that he meant to have me killed, and all you have to say is that he’s not that bad?” Bjorn was livid then, the veins in his neck bulging. I knew he would never hurt me, but had it been anyone else I would have cowered.   
  
“I’m saying that it could have been done by someone else! We don’t know for sure!”  
  
“Stop yelling at me!”  
  
“Stop being so set in your ways! Anyone could’ve -”  
  
“You’re being ignorant! He had a reason, and an opportunity, and that blasted ring is proof of it! What more could you want! He is not your friend!”  
  
“At least he wouldn’t scream at me like this!” That’s where I went too far. Bjorn had stood up straight, pulling all of his anger back inside, and left me to take care of the crying twins. From there we had walked on eggshells.   
  
"Are you alright?" I looked up and saw Lagertha looking at me with a worried expression.   
  
"I... No, I'm not. Bjorn and I have this difference of opinion, and I know I'm in the wrong, but I can't admit that yet."  
  
"What is it about?" I sucked some air through my teeth.   
  
"Stuff. Something that should've stayed in the past but came up." I didn’t feel like talking about much more. I focused back on my horse and guiding it through the woods.  
  
"Don't worry about it. The bathing is meant to leave your past behind. Once Lagertha and I have washed you, all your old troubles will fall away. You'll be reborn," Helga promised. I had to snicker at her conviction. Reborn... Technically I wasn't even born yet.  
  
"You are still sure you want to marry him, right?" Normally Lagertha would talk about 'her son' in this kind of situation. She must have been aware of how I thought of her as a mother-figure since Paris.   
  
"I am. I love Bjorn. It’s just a stupid fight. A ghost from the past sneaked up on us and is making it hard to talk right now. If you can manage to wash away that ghost we'll be fine." Either way, Erlendur would know Bjorn had survived by now. If it had been him, he wouldn’t try again anytime soon.  
  
"You always do much better after you talk about it. We're among friends and family here." I took in a deep breath. Helga was right. If there were two women I trusted with my life, Lagertha and Helga were it. I could trust them with my secrets, to a certain level.   
  
"Someone I trusted tried to harm Bjorn. I have trouble believing it because that person was so good to me. But we both have seen the proof that this person has tried to harm him."  
  
"Ah, so it's your heart that gives you trouble," Lagertha said. "This has to do with Paris, doesn't it?" She knew damn well what this was about. I'd seen her talk to Bjorn in hushed tones.  
  
"In a way. Bjorn is terrified I'll make the same mistakes again. Just thinking about it is enough to make him angry."  
  
"While you worry about the kids,” Lagertha filled in. That wasn’t even an issue. She would have known what it was about had Bjorn discussed it with her, what had they been whispering about instead? “I had the same fight with Ragnar once, when I wanted to come with him to England and he wanted me to stay with Bjorn and Gyda." She let out a chortle as she thought back to it. "Bjorn was the one to make us come to our senses. He was barely twelve." I vaguely remembered Bjorn mentioning that fight to me once.  
  
"He was mostly pissed because you didn't trust him," I remembered. Going along with her seemed best for now.  
  
"Would you trust a twelve-year-old with the responsibility of a farm, his younger sister, a Christian priest turned slave, and having to lie for his parents?"  
  
"You had me at farm." I did not intend to get into a fight with Lagertha where she knew what had happened, and I didn't.   
  
"Does it have to do with that prophecy? About the bear and the princess?" Helga asked.   
  
"No, it happened after that. In the two days before he left for the Interior, we had some serious conversations. Being married and all we had to have some serious talks, since we were engaged." That was such a weird sentence. I had to go over it in my head again to make sure it was right.  
  
"You do keep things interesting," Lagertha said with a strange smile.  
  
"It also manages to get me into trouble." We had almost reached the point in the river where we would bathe, and I suddenly felt very conscious of my body. My stomach had recovered mostly, but there was still skin hanging loose, and my breasts were swollen and red from all the feeding. And it was still barely April, meaning the water would be cold. Lagertha let Helga put some face paint on her while I made sure the horses wouldn’t run off. By the time I was done, both of them were already naked.   
  
I stood between them, still dressed, Lagertha in front of me and Helga to my back. It was the best circle they could form with just the two of them. Lagertha called on Freyja and Frigg to bless me. With my arms still beside me and my eyes closed, I waited for the ceremony to be over.  
  
"We call upon you, Freyja. Help us cleanse your daughter. Help us prepare her for her life to come. We call upon you, Frigg. Help us cleanse this woman from her previous life and bonds. Watch over her as you decide on her new fate." Lagertha's deep commanding voice struck terror into my heart. If anyone was able to tell the gods to do as she wished, this woman could. As I stole a glance, I saw she had raised her arms wide and looked up at the sky, then a raven cawed.   
  
"They are here," Helga whispered. I felt a shiver run down my spine. If Freyja was truly here, I had some choice words for her.   
  
"Mother of twins, carrier of our fate, Ragnhild Freyjasdottir has come before you. It is in her name I ask for your blessing. Bless her with oak." Helga came forward and put some ashes on my forehead as she gently pushed my head back with her thumb, so it wouldn't fall off. "Bless her with ash." Some more ashes were put on my forehead.   
  
I felt weird, as if some eerie presence surrounded us. It judged me, it wanted to see what I was worth. I fought down the urge to resist it and surrendered to it, loosening the lacing on my dress. If this feeling was really Frigg and Freyja passing judgment on me, I didn't dare defy them. I felt my heart grow heavy. Another shiver ran down my spine. Memories of previous times I had submitted to someone else came to mind, and the fear they caused soon made me fill up with anger.   
  
I was no longer that person. I was no longer a slave to those memories. I held my head up high, not wanting to bow down to anyone anymore. I was in charge of my own life, and I would damn well take the lead.   
  
As I opened my eyes, I saw the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen standing in front of me. Her blond hair flowed down in lazy curls, and on her face was a warm smile to go with it. Her piercing green eyes seemed to look right through me. As I blinked I realized I had been looking at Lagertha, but it hadn’t been her face. The eye color didn’t match, Lagertha’s skin was paler, and her hair was braided to the back of her head. This wasn’t me adjusting to the light after keeping my eyes closed, not after I took a peek. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Freyja’s warm smile lingered, but as her face blended more into that of Lagertha, the eyes turned soft.   
  
"I could've sworn you were Freyja." I shook my head to get rid of the image, but it remained etched into my eyes. She had worn a blue top, on top of a billowing red skirt. The colors had been so dark and intense, that combination had somehow worked.   
  
"You saw her?" Helga asked. Her eyes were wide with wonder. "I told you, she was here." She could barely contain her enthusiasm.  
  
"Freyja has given her blessing. You truly are her vessel," Lagertha said, her voice much calmer. I felt a sense of discomfort falling over me. I racked my brain, trying to come to terms with what I had just seen. What I still saw, etched at the back of my mind, was clear as day. It hadn’t been a trick of the light, or due to me eating something strange. "Let us begin."  
  
Helga and Lagertha removed their own clothing and went into the cold river water. As their heads went under, I felt a third shiver pass through my body. Someone was watching me, intently. That woman… It was Freyja, that much I knew. My vision wasn’t blurry, and I’d eaten well enough in the morning. I didn’t have a history of visual hallucinations, and I hadn’t used drugs for a few years now.   
  
It was just the cold that had made me shiver, I told myself. There was no one else around, it was just me now the others were dunked under. But I couldn’t deny that there was something. It…   
  
It was a feeling, and not a knowing. Just like Bjorn had described to me.   
  
The women emerged from the water again, the water dripping down their lean naked bodies, Helga's graced with a bump on her belly. Together they guided me towards the river. The chill of the water didn't bother me as much as I thought. The water felt safe, as if I'd finally found a place to call my own. I felt at home.  
  
Lagertha and Helga moved their hands all over my skin, washing away all my previous sins. I felt no qualms as they touched my stomach or my breasts. As they dunked me underneath the water, I felt totally at ease. And all of it didn't seem strange to me in the slightest.   
  
Coming up for air, I felt reborn. Helga had been right, there was no other way to describe it. The air that filled my lungs seemed purer, the breeze that gently stroked my skin felt like the first breath of spring. Above me, the trees seemed to burst with life, as did the grass on the bank of the river. The entire world seemed to be reborn, it wasn't just me.  
  
We got out of the water and sat down on the grass covering the bank. Helga had brought a few blankets we could rest on while we waited for the sun to dry us.  
  
"You look very serene," Helga said.  
  
"I feel serene. It's like... Everything seems so much clearer. I… I think I saw Freyja." Both of them knew I had trouble accepting the gods as a part of life, so my remark made them both look at me in wonder.   
  
“I told you she was here,” Helga breathed. “Did she… Did she do anything? How did she look?”  
  
“I only saw her for a moment, when Lagertha asked her to bless me.” I told Helga and Lagertha of what I'd seen. The fierceness in her posture, the pride that shone through her eyes, and every other little detail I remembered.  
  
“Bjorn will be so pleased when he hears this. It is safe to assume that this was the epiphany you were waiting for, right? You believe in the gods now?” Lagertha’s mind was starting to register the confusion I felt at her question.  
  
“Yes. No. I need some time to think about this. But let me be the one to tell him, please. I want to see the look in his eyes when he hears that all his talk of them wasn’t for nothing.” All those hours discussing the gods, me asking questions, him trying to explain that feeling, and me wanting to know when I should be feeling… He would be overjoyed.   
  
Now I had confessed it out loud I found myself scrambling to get out from under my words, but I couldn’t deny Freyja’s image. Some of her presence was still here, and it felt good. It warmed me, filled me with a sense of belonging. I didn’t care that most of their stories weren’t possible. Thor couldn’t drink the top two inches of the sea with just two large gulps, there was no such thing as Mímir’s well that granted eternal knowledge when you drank from it, but that didn’t mean the gods weren’t real.   
  
The bible was filled with incredible stories as well, and those had always been explained as metaphors. It was the message behind them that counted, and those had become easier and easier to unravel over the past year. Now that I thought about it, I realized this had been coming for a long time.   
  
“And what exactly do you need to think about?” Lagertha asked. “You said it yourself, you mean to tell Bjorn that you believe in the gods. It’s a feeling, it’s either there or not. I still don’t understand how you could possibly doubt the gods, they brought you here.” They did… They did, I shouldn’t hesitate about that anymore. They had given me this chance, this life, and now they had given me their blessing, right before the wedding.   
  
“It just needs to sink in for a bit. I’m still blown away by it. Her hair looked just like mine, and there was this… It was like she recognized me? I don’t know, I need a day or two to wrap my head around this.”   
  
“Just in time for the wedding,” Helga said with a broad smile. “Now you will marry Bjorn and it will count as both of your traditions. Would you object if I were to make you a dress like the one Freyja was wearing, for you to wed in?" That meant she had just a little over two days to work on it, this one included. Helga was pregnant, she didn’t even have the fabrics at home to attempt it.   
  
"I would, you have done enough for me already. The way you have helped me and Bjorn with the twins, we'd have killed each other twice over if it wasn't for you. And besides, I don’t want you to tire yourself out, you need your strength."   
  
“My pregnancy is going a lot better than yours did, my child is a lot calmer. I’ll get it done in time, you’ll see.” I couldn’t object to her wanting to try. It didn’t matter to me what I got married in, as long as I got married to Bjorn. I could see it meant a lot to her, and I started to feel guilty for wanting to spare her from having to do a lot of stuff for the wedding. She was still Helga, and she was still amazing. She knew when to ask for help and when to admit that she had bitten off more than she could chew.   
  
“I should know better than to doubt you,” I admitted. Helga smiled at my reluctant acceptance.  
  
"You’re starting to accept our help with less trouble lately.” Lagertha’s mouth formed into a careful smile as if she was still a bit reluctant to accept my sudden belief in her - our gods.   
  
"How could I resist? Both of you are incessant in wanting to help me out, it’s easier to just go with it." I knew Lagertha and Helga hadn't had a lot of opportunities to really go all out on dressing a bride if any. It wasn't even usual for the bride to wear a fancy dress. Lagertha had lived ways off of Kattegat before she got there, then as an earl’s wife, it had been hard to fit in at first. Then she moved to Ribe, then Hedeby. Her own daughter had died.   
  
Helga had mentioned a sister once, but I hadn't pressed her on the subject. She lived quite remotely with Floki and had few close friends. To me, it mattered little what I'd wear on my wedding. I was more concerned with the flowers, the guests, and the bedding ceremony. Bjorn had agreed to adjust a lot, but that he had insisted on. Without it, it all would be for nothing according to this world.   
  
"Floki must be excited about your child," I said as I caught the swell of Helga's belly again.   
  
"He was... Hesitant, at first. With him being arrested and all, and he'll probably be away when the baby is born."  
  
"Don't worry about it. When I think back to how Bjorn first looked at Siggy... There's this thing that happens, and every bit of love and worry you put in now, he'll feel that when he first holds your child."  
  
"She's right. When Ragnar held Bjorn in his arms... You wouldn't have recognized him."  
  
"I've seen how tender he can be with the boys,” Helga said. “And if Floki is anything like Ragnar in that regard... He's still very careful with Siggy, but not so much with Thormund."  
  
"We are the weaker gender. At least Bjorn found himself a woman that dispels that myth." She almost made that sound like she thought I was strong, and it almost made me blush.  
  
"Are there any questions you still have?" Helga asked. "About getting married, that is. You must have some things you've been wondering about.  
  
"Well, there was this thing about my hair that Bjorn let slip once. He said he'd miss it? But he didn't really explain how or why."  
  
"Ah, that one." Lagertha turned around to lie on her stomach, raising herself up on her elbows. She was still beautiful, despite the lines that had started to grace her face. "When you marry, you'll have to wear this atrocious crown with your hair wrapped through it. Since we're one of those families, you can't make due with a braided crown. I had one made for Gyda when she became a woman, but, well..."  
  
"We'll show off your hair, one last time." Helga made it sound like she didn't like it, either. "After the ceremony, you're expected to keep your hair either covered or braided. Wearing it loose is a sign you're still available." I didn't want to disrespect Bjorn like that but having to do my hair every time I went out sounded like a drag.  
  
"Can I get away with just a simple braid in the back of my neck?"  
  
"If you're a farmer..." I rolled my eyes as I heard Lagertha didn't like it one bit. "I had to spend so much time getting ready each day, and even now. It's abominable."  
  
"And what if I don't know how to braid my hair as intricately as you two do?"  
  
"Helga's hair is still quite simple as she is not married, but usually... Aslaug and I have a servant to do it for us, because of that reason."  
  
"And that's not going to happen," I said decisively. Having a slave just to make sure my hair was done right each day…   
  
"Then you'll wear caps all the time? I can't imagine that. You'll look like a maid."  
  
"I'll figure something out. Maybe I can get away with some easy updo I remember from back home. It'll keep my hair up, at the least."  
  
"It's about displaying power, not keeping your hair out of your neck. And since you’re about to own a large part of the lands to the east, I wouldn't be too hasty about taking this too casually. I know they make no sense, but these rules are part of how this world works. Even though we may hate them." I didn’t like this, one bit. It wouldn’t have been this bad if I had known sooner, then I could’ve practiced a bit on some braids that I could do myself. I should’ve asked around about this, but with the twins… At least I had enough hair to work with.  
  
"Are there any other things I should know? Anything to look forward to, perhaps?"  
  
"In your case, not really. It'll put your children in the line of succession, and you will be queen when Ragnar dies. Aslaug won't have any power when he dies." Lagertha almost made that sound like a reward. There was still a lot of bad blood between the two, though they hid it well when others were around. It wouldn’t do to have her bash the wife of her ally in public.  
  
"I thought Ragnar hadn't decided on an heir yet," I said warily.  
  
"You saw what happened early this winter. Bjorn took over, and aside from that thing with Erlendur he did fine. Ubbe's still too young, and Bjorn is his firstborn. If Ragnar were to proclaim Ubbe his heir, he can expect Bjorn to fight both of them. I raised my son right." Her conviction made me feel a bit queasy. If Bjorn were to move against Ragnar and the boys, where would I stand?  
  
"I don't like to think that far ahead," I said carefully, watching Lagertha's face for a reaction.  
  
"Then you are a fool. You know Harald will return, and that Bjorn needs a strong woman to stand by his side. Your strength will be a great deterrent for any decision to go to war over this, for both parties. Had you not wanted this, you shouldn't have accepted his proposal." Suddenly, having to decide what I would and wouldn’t tell Bjorn about the future wasn’t the toughest dilemma in my life anymore. War between Bjorn and the boys…   
  
"I love Bjorn more than I hate the idea of becoming queen," I settled on. Lagertha read my face, but I couldn’t figure out what she was looking for. Maybe the queen inside me, as she failed to find it.   
  
"Then that will have to do. Just remember, don't ever come between Bjorn and his kingdom. You've seen what happens when a queen comes between those things." I had. It meant the king had little time to worry about the kingdom and was caught up in stupid trifles just to keep his wife happy. In that regard, Aslaug had taught me a lot on what not to do.  
  
"I won't. I care about Bjorn's dreams, and his wishes."  
  
"And what about your own dreams and wishes?" I had to think about that for a moment. I still enjoyed helping people, it was rewarding and whenever I ran into someone again it was very flattering to hear of how well I helped them. Of course, there were less than successful stories, but the ones that stuck with me most were the people I was able to help. But if it came to choosing between Bjorn and the boys…   
  
"I just want my family and friends to be happy, and I'm smart enough to realize my own needs will be second to the kingdom. I learned that lesson the hard way, earl Ingstad."  
  
"And how I enjoyed teaching you."  
  
"You make it sound like you're not teaching me still."  
  
"Kiss-ass." I was glad to move on to a different subject. Lagertha must have sensed that she had given me enough to think about for now, as she sat up, gesturing for me to do the same. Helga kept lying down, one hand on her belly as she stared up through the branches. Lagertha must have clued her in that she meant to talk to me about some serious topics.  
  
“It’s hardly kissing your ass if you mean to teach me,” I pointed out. She raised an eyebrow, then spoke.  
  
"Tell me, how up to date is your Viking law knowledge? I'll hazard a guess and say Aslaug hasn't mentioned it, seeing as it would prepare you for taking over from her." And it would have made it clear Bjorn would take over from Ragnar, and not her own son.   
  
"Not a word."   
  
"Well then, I suppose we'll have to spend some time on that before you get married. You'll have to act the part of a judge when Bjorn will be away, and you need to be okay with our laws and morals and be able to preside over any matter brought before you."  
  
"I realize I might have to swallow my own morals," I said, still not sure why Lagertha would suddenly be so maternal. "But I'm sure you'll teach me all you know, in the time we still have."  
  
"It might take a little while longer. For example, what would you do to a man who can't pay his taxes? Or if he infringes on his wife's dowry?" I sighed, knowing it would be more than I'd thought. It wasn't just criminals, but disagreements of other kinds as well.   
  
“I think it should be judged individually, not all cases are equal,” I said. Aslaug was fond to do exactly the opposite, and on that Siggy had been vocal to me. It earned me a sparing nod.  
  
"You will have to officiate ceremonies every now and then, as well. Not to mention you might want to start wearing some more feminine dresses. You already have some from Siggy, if I remember correctly. You'll want your own as well, you'll need to look the part, not just act it." It was all a part of it. I'd already said yes to this, multiple times. I knew this was to be my future, with Bjorn as my husband. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and after my first taste of what it would be like to be his queen, I knew what I had to do to get myself ready. It was just that having to do it felt like I had to climb a mountain.


	109. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-04-803

On the morning of the wedding, the sun shone for the first time in days. As I made my way up to the field to prepare for the wedding, Siggy in my arms, I could still smell the rain that had fallen until early in the morning. Normally at this time of day the village would still be quiet, but the streets and alleys were bustling. More merchants than usual had flocked to the markets, all hoping to gain favor. In the past week some nearby earls had made the trip to attend the wedding, but for today I would just ignore them. This was my day, and no plotting or plans would come between me and my happiness.   
  
"Ah, good. You're here." Lagertha wore a radiant smile as she ushered me in. Aslaug and Helga looked up from fussing over the dress. When I saw it, I was awestruck with how well the colors matched. Some of the details differed, as I presume Aslaug had interfered and had insisted on adding gold thread and gemstones on the ends of the sleeves and the hem at the bottom, but I loved it all the same.   
  
"It's beautiful," I sighed. “You actually did it, Helga. How are your fingers still working?”   
  
"We still have to fit it to your body, so we'd better get you in it." I handed Siggy off to Idu, who no doubt had to add all of the gemstones overnight. Her fingers looked a bit cramped, as well. I undressed and Helga and Lagertha helped me put on my bridal gown.   
  
"Your body seems to recover well," Aslaug said, already a cup of wine in her hand. "I have to say, I'm a bit jealous." I could see how it would take longer to get back to usual after four children, but mostly I felt embarrassed about the things I saw that weren’t recovered yet.   
  
"I’ve never been one to scar easily,” I conceded, “and besides, I still have stretch marks, it’s not all gone." Though it had gone mostly, at least in this light. In the sun, everything was better visible, the soft glow from the tent hid a lot.  
  
"Battle scars. The shield wall is not the only way to fight," Lagertha said. I was glad to have the dress pulled over my head, hiding my body again. With this many people present I felt uncomfortable, even more so when they were making comments on it.  
  
"I just hope no one will cry today. That still makes me lactate. Tears are fine, but it's the wailing that sets it off." Lagertha just laughed and shook her head. "Well, how do I look?" I twirled around a bit, noticing the skirts billowed out a bit. Oh, Helga. Her attention for details like that was astounding. She had kept the overall design fairly simple, sticking to large swatches of fabric to save on time for the skirt.  
  
"If Bjorn won't marry you after seeing you in that dress, I'm sure men will be lining up to take his place. I don't know how you came up with such a design."  
  
"It was more of a vision." I still felt a bit uncomfortable talking about the gods with her. "During the bathing, I... I saw Freyja. She was wearing a dress very similar to this one." A knowing smile crept up on her face, broadening until it would've had to hurt her.   
  
"Well, look at you! We'll make a believer of you, yet." I looked down in embarrassment, admiring the sweetheart neckline, the feel of the fabric underneath my hands, and the swishing of the skirts.   
  
"I love it," I said to no one in particular. The color combination made me think of Supergirl, and I allowed myself to feel like a superhero for a moment. Just a little over three years after being brought here I had worked myself up from being a slave to marrying the prince of Kattegat and Denmark, I'd given birth to twins in deplorable conditions, and I'd won the trust and friendship of more people than I could count on two hands. I'd never been this rich.   
  
Helga set to work on the last changes on the dress, while Aslaug and Lagertha started a friendly bickering on what to do with my hair. I just enjoyed their company. All three of them were so different, and especially Aslaug and Lagertha had some bad history. Still, they all cared about me and wanted me to look my best. Even Idu somehow managed to fit in a bit, making me feel less alone as the only foreigner. This would be her first Viking wedding, and she would be in for one sweet ride. "Helga?" Floki's voice rang out from outside the tent.   
  
"I'm a little busy!"   
  
"Do you need anything in there? I just want to make sure everything is going all right. Is Ragnhild as nervous as Bjorn?" I smiled as I imagined Bjorn fretting around all worried.   
  
"Tell Bjorn he shouldn't be worried until he sees his bride. He might faint at the sight," Lagertha said. Her eyes held an evil twinkle I hadn't seen before. "What?" she asked me as she saw me grinning at her. "It's probably true. If he's nervous already I hope he can manage to stand up straight."  
  
"Oh, come on. He's not that much of a pussy."  
  
"Floki, what was that?" Helga said, her hands still working on my back.   
  
"Harald's here, and Ragnar asked Bjorn to consider having him join in on the festivities. Bjorn wanted me to ask if Ragnhild was okay with that." The traders had told me he would be here tomorrow, and that had suited me just fine.   
  
"He can come, but if I catch any of them talking about politics or raiding or any of that daily crap I will banish them both to Helheim."  
  
"Can you even do that?" Floki asked.   
  
"Are they willing to find out?" Floki let out his telltale giggle. He'd have fun with both of them today. I wanted this one day to be about me and Bjorn. No games, no politics, just two people in love.   
  
"Lagertha, I really think we should go with an elaborate braid to the side," Aslaug said as she circled me. That's how she always wore her hair. I didn’t know if she meant it as a peace offering to have me copy her, or as a clear sign to the world that I would follow her.   
  
"I know you might like that, but this is her day, not yours. We should keep it simple. In her vision, Freyja had her hair loose. We should honor that."  
  
"But you only get married once." Lagertha's eyes went from kind to ice cold in a heartbeat. "Well, those two will, anyway."   
  
"Ragnhild, what do you want?" Lagertha chose to involve me now, but I refused to let it interfere with my serenity.   
  
"I always wear it loose, so something different would be nice. And yet, I want to feel like myself as well. I remember Siggy once braided my hair for Thurseblot, where she made two braids to the side to keep my hair out of my face. I'd like something like that, to have something of hers with me to remember her by." No one dared go against such an argument. Siggy still was a painful topic of discussion.   
  
"I'm sure she would love that," Aslaug said.   
  
"You could have just said so from the start," Lagertha muttered under her breath as she started on my hair.   
  
"And where would be the fun in that?" In revenge, she pulled on a strand of hair just a tad too hard.  
  
"Don't start causing trouble on your own wedding day, it's bad luck." Siggy started fussing a bit, but I had to stand still so Helga and Lagertha could continue their work. I watched Idu change Siggy, feeling a bit left out. That was my job.   
  
“Relax, everything is fine,” Helga said. “I’m almost done. Do you want to go over the plans again?” She knew exactly how to calm me down.   
  
"Floki agreed to watch Thormund during the ceremony, and you will take care of Siggy. The swords are both here, as are the rings, I made sure to check that before I came in here.” Helga let out a disappointed sigh at that confession, but I pushed on. “The flowers are all in place already, Aslaug already set the servants to work on the menu we put together last week. I made sure we had the freshest of everything at the market, so it’ll be delicious, and not bland, and plenty for all of us for at least a week. The officiator knows she can’t take too long because the twins will need to be fed in time, and I don’t want them to fuss during the ceremony. I'll feed the twins between the ceremony and the feast, and then they stay in the hall for the night while Bjorn and I go celebrate in private. Lagertha’s the one I run to when something is out of place and needs to get fixed." Aslaug shook her head, then down the rest of her cup.  
  
"You make it sound like you're preparing a raid," she said.  
  
"It's not that different. Get everything into place, put the people you trust in the places you know they can handle, and you're all set."  
  
"Now you make me wonder how the upcoming raid on Paris will go over,” Lagertha said. “If it’s anything like how you ordered us all around for the wedding, we'd take the city in a few hours." I gave Lagertha a pointed look.   
  
“I’m not that terrible, I wasn’t rude or yelling at anyone… Right?”  
  
“If you were, I’d never have offered to make you a dress,” Helga said, then continued pulling and prodding on a hem.  
  
“You reminded me a bit of Ragnar when he’s preparing for battle,” Lagertha said. I tried to turn around, but she kept my head in place. "Oh, I'll wait to ask you questions about Paris until after the ceremony, but I'm curious all the same." She'd finished my hair. As I looked in the mirror she held up, I almost didn't believe the reflection. I looked like a queen, with my hair up to the sky like this. I had to swallow as I realized I wouldn’t get much of a say about how I looked for the rest of my life, and I was getting into this myself, for love.   
  
The reality of it all felt like a burden on my shoulders. As I studied my own eyes, I saw doubt, and worry, and fear. But it wasn’t for me, it was for Bjorn and the people of Kattegat. I doubted if they would accept me as their queen, I worried if I would be able to lead them in Bjorn’s absence, and I feared what would happen if I let them down. I wanted to do my best for them, as I would be responsible for them after today. And what they needed was a strong princess that would support their prince.   
  
Lagertha noticed the pep talk I was giving myself internally, softly smiling as I handed her back the looking glass and felt full of confidence.   
  
"I'll go see if the horse is ready," she said. Lagertha left the tent with a smile, off to warn Bjorn I was ready as well.   
  
"I still think you should've chosen to ride in on a chariot," Aslaug said. "Especially when I see you like this, you look like..."  
  
"A goddess," Helga said, her eyes alight with all kinds of emotions. "Freyja will not be disappointed. I remember when I first realized Bjorn was in love with you, and even back then I held out hope you two would make it." I took Helga in a tight embrace, knowing just how good of a friend she had been to me through it all. I could only hope to repay her for all the help she had given me over the past few moons. We had already agreed that she would stay with me when the men left so she wouldn’t be caught off-guard if the baby decided to come early. Until Floki came back, I would help her take care of her child. It was the least I could do.  
  
"I can't wait to tell you all about married life. I imagine it's just the same, but with rings on our fingers." I turned to Aslaug after she cleared her throat. She and Ragnar weren't exactly role models when it came to married life.   
  
"You look beautiful," she said.   
  
"Thank you. For everything, I wouldn't be here without you." She only gave me a courteous nod, but I knew she was glad for my words. It was me accepting her bringing me here, it was an apology for my harsh words.   
  
"Ragnhild? He's waiting for you." I went week in the knees as I heard Lagertha call out, taking a deep breath as I tried to contain a smile. As I followed Aslaug and Helga out I saw Lagertha had taken care to have her white mare's mane and tail braided, with the same flowers that had been put in place.   
  
"You know me so well," I said, realizing I had completely forgotten about how the horse should look.  
  
"We can't have you going to your wedding on a donkey, now can we?" After a last moment with Siggy, I got on top of the mare with Lagertha's help, taking care not to wrinkle my skirts. As Snow White started to walk, I couldn't help feeling like a bit of a princess. In less than an hour I'd actually be one.   
  
I hadn't realized so many people would be gathered, but I forgot about that as soon as I caught sight of Bjorn. Ragnar nudged him and pointed at me, and the look in Bjorn's eyes was indescribable. It was the same look he held in his eyes when we had sat together with our newborn twins in our arms. Floki only barely managed to take over Thormund before Bjorn made his way to me. He was already breaking protocol.   
  
As soon as he reached me he lifted me off the mare, taking me in his arms. We hadn't seen each other since the bathing, and I'd missed him. I had to fight back the urge to kiss him.   
  
"You look like Freyja," he whispered as he guided me towards the center of it all.   
  
"That was the look I was going for. I had a vision, and she was wearing something similar." I wanted to tell him all about it, but it would have to wait until later. The astonished look in his eyes made me even giddier.  
  
"You what? Ragnhild, do you…" He took a breath and nodded his head a few times as a grin took hold of his face. The way his eyes flitted around, he wanted to shout the news to everyone as loud as he could.   
  
I knew how much the gods meant to him, and that he was lying to himself when he told me that it didn’t matter if I believed in them yet. Only the twins’ birth and marrying me could rival the sheer, unadulterated happiness that poured out of his every fiber.  
  
"You heard me." We reached the woman who would officiate our wedding, and she was already glowing from either joy at seeing our happiness, or a few cups of the wedding mead. As Bjorn and I faced each other she started talking about how the gods had led us together, how it was evident that we loved each other, and that she just knew we'd be together forever. She kept it short, though, according to plan.   
  
"And now, the swords." Ragnar handed Bjorn an old ancestral sword, recently polished up to make it shine brightly. It was a thing of beauty in its simple elegance. It had seen hard wear, though I knew it wasn't used for battle. It must have been ancient. The sword Lagertha handed to me was brightly shining because it was so new. The edge was still sharp and unmarked, the hilt a distinctly different color than that of the grip. The blade was engraved with runes for protection and family, and plenty of Freyja’s marks, Lagertha had seen to that. The swords were as different as me and Bjorn, yet together they formed a union. And, after all, I noticed, there was something old, something new, something borrowed balancing on top of my head, and I wore something blue.   
  
My sword was heavy, and keeping it upright was something I wished I'd practiced before. Other than when moving Bjorn's weapons aside to clean up, I never held one before. Bjorn noticed and had to smile even harder. I knew he was thinking back to when he wanted to prepare me for Paris by making me wrestle him. I was relieved when we could switch out the swords, but Bjorn had to stifle a laugh when I noticed his sword was even heavier. 'Fuck you', I mouthed to him. He cocked an eyebrow in response. I had to focus to keep my arms from shaking.   
  
Our wedding rings were placed on top, and the woman asked both me and Bjorn if we had come here of our own free will and wanted to be wed.   
  
"I do," we both said. I almost let out a sigh of relief when I could lower the bloody sword and have the bloody ring placed on my finger. Some blood was spattered on our faces, and finally, I could hand off the heavy sword to Lagertha. She once had held the same sword, when she had wed Ragnar. I hoped it would bring us more luck than them.  
  
I didn't have time to linger on that, as Bjorn's lips were on mine before the woman said we could. I wrapped my arms around him and the rest of the world faded away. Our tongues met with an incredible passion. His lips were now mine, as were his arms around my body, and his heart and passion. And I was his.   
  
As we broke off the kiss the crowd was cheering, sharing in our joy. Lagertha and Ragnar were the first to congratulate us, after that everything fell into a blur. Someone pushed a horn in my hand with the customary wedding mead, and I was very happy to have the taste of alcohol in my mouth again. With the pregnancy and then breastfeeding, it had been close to a year since I had some. Bjorn had convinced me to drink this one day, as it was customary. He hadn’t spent a lot of time trying to talk me into it.  
  
As we finally went back to town, not bothering to have a bridal race as it would have meant I would race on my own against the whole town, Hvitserk came up to me.   
  
"What should I call you now?" he asked.  
  
"What do you mean? I’m still Ragnhild."  
  
"Well, you married my brother, so you’re now my sister. But Siggy became my sister first, so you can’t be my sister, too." I had to smile at his explanation.  
  
"What would you want to call me? Is it not okay to just call me by my name?"  
  
"But you feel more like an auntie to me than a sister. Is it okay if I think of you as my auntie?"  
  
"Of course it is. I don't mind." Hvitserk ran off again. For all his talk of learning how to fight and vowing every now and then he would be better than Ubbe and Bjorn combined, he was still a child with little worries. Ubbe made sure Hvitserk could be a kid for a little while longer.  
  
"What was that about?" Bjorn asked as he wrapped an arm around me.   
  
"I think Hvitserk is a bit confused that I used to take care of him and now has to see me as his sister. He wanted to know if he could call me his aunt."  
  
"And you let him, didn't you?" he said as he shook his head.   
  
"I could never refuse him anything. You know I let them get away with murder."  
  
"I just hope you won't spoil the twins like that."  
  
"Of course, I will. But I won't let them act it."   
  
“I’d be a fool to fight you today. And besides, I’m eager to hear more about that vision of yours…” I knew it. It felt like sharing a secret, and Bjorn leaned in close to hear.   
  
“She was there, during the bathing,” I said softly. “Your mother blessed me, and then I opened my eyes, but I didn’t see Lagertha. It was Freyja.” Bjorn picked me up and spun me around, almost knocking over the people that walked too close. I could only giggle and wrap my arms around his neck.  
  
“Never stop amazing me,” he said as he pulled me close.   
  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”   
  
After a quick feed for the twins, assisted by Helga to make sure my dress didn’t get ruined when I had to take it off in its entirety, Bjorn and I sat down at the middle of the huge table in the hall, in the seats of honor. Ragnar, Aslaug, and the boys sat at our left, next to Bjorn, and Lagertha, Helga, and Floki sat to my right. It was usually reserved for the family members of the bride, but as I had none, I had instead opted for the people who were with us the first time we got married. Harald sat beside Floki, who seemed to get along just fine.   
  
As the mead was served Bjorn stood up to make his toast. Just as he wanted to turn to me a man came in, hurriedly approaching the head of the table. I thought he'd have something to tell Ragnar, but he went straight for Lagertha. I was just as confused as Bjorn.   
  
The man whispered something in her ear and left after she gave him whispered instructions. Her face grew cold, it must have been bad news.   
  
"Do you have to go?" She looked at me for a second, then shook her head.   
  
"I can't do anything now. I'll wait until the feast is done. You said no politics." As if that applied at a time like this.  
  
"What happened?" I pushed on, sensing this was something huge.  
  
"It seems Erlendur has usurped me." It seemed ghosts couldn’t be washed away after all. I was certain it must have been a misunderstanding, him trying to kill Bjorn, but this was proof that he would keep interfering with our lives. One guilt-ridden glance at Bjorn was enough to bury the subject forever. He was right, and I was wrong. And still, he put a hand on my shoulder to comfort me. If I hadn’t put a ring on him already, I would’ve done so on the spot.  
  
Everyone had already been paying attention to us, and as the news sunk in the room grew quiet. No one seemed to know what to say.   
  
"It's too late to depart today, I'll leave in the morning. Please, let's continue. Bjorn was about to say something lovely, no doubt." Bjorn eyed his mother warily, then took a deep breath before he started. Him being able to switch back to being happy about today was a testament to his strength, and showed everyone he wasn’t just a son of Ragnar. That alone made me confident Bjorn would make a great king one day.  
  
"Ragnhild, you are more than just my wife and the mother of our children. You see the world differently from the rest of us, and whenever you let me see the world as you do, it fills me with a sense of wonder. Without you, the world wouldn't be the same. It's as if I could only see black and white, and ever since I met you, I started seeing colors." He'd stolen that from me from back in Paris, but I was happy to hear he felt the same. And it was not like I could call him out on it in front of all these people. I'd get him back eventually. "I love you, and having you love me makes me the happiest man alive. Skol!" Bjorn raised his glass and drank, the whole room following.   
  
As he sat down I kissed him. I knew how much he loved me, and how much he cared. Hearing him say it out loud, in front of all these people, he warmed my heart even more. Soon the room was filled with laughter and conversation. Lagertha wasn't eating much, though.   
  
"What are you going to do?" I asked.  
  
"I will take back what is mine. I will ask Ragnar if he can help me, I barely brought anyone here. Many will still be loyal to me, but if he managed to take over, I doubt many are left."  
  
"I will come with you," Bjorn said.   
  
"No, you will not. You have a newlywed wife and two babies to take care of. Ragnhild still depends on you. You have obligations now, and you must keep your promises." I would have gladly let Bjorn go, but I wondered how I would be able to take care of the babies without having to ask everyone I knew to help me. We still needed to figure out something for the upcoming raid. Bjorn huffed a bit and turned back to his food.   
  
"I will come," Floki said as he put a hand on Lagertha’s arm. "I have wanted to get my hands on that rat for a while now." She gracefully accepted his offer. If she was to leave on the morrow, she'd need to get help quick. I was just trying to see if Ragnar was listening in when he appeared behind us.   
  
"I won't be able to come myself, but I will allow you to take any man willing to go with you, save a number to keep Kattegat safe. So close to the raids, you'll have no trouble finding some men whose blood is starting to boil." He sounded as if he would have been glad to go with her himself, but with Harald in town that would be difficult.  
  
"Thank you, Ragnar." The look between them seemed loving. Could they still hold feelings for one another? Or was this a look of former lovers who still cared for each other's well-being? Bjorn put his hand on mine and I looked up to him. "Come on, we still have to get drunk. We can’t do anything for my mother now, so let’s enjoy the rest of the feast." My mind was still with Lagertha and wanting to help her, but Bjorn was right. This wasn’t my fight, and if she needed me Lagertha would know where to find me.  
  
"I'm barely used to alcohol anymore. I think two more cups will be enough to get me drunk, you didn’t tell me the mead was this strong."  
  
"Two cups, are you kidding? You drank me under the table the first few times. And you know we have to keep drinking until midnight, at least."  
  
"If I manage to be drunk for that long without falling asleep, you'll have to carry me home," I warned him.  
  
"I don't see any problem with that. It might make you forget we'll have to have sex when we get home to officially consummate our marriage."  
  
"I still don't see the use for that. We have babies. Shouldn't that be proof enough?"   
  
"We've had to change quite a lot already, you know that we have to do it."  
  
"In that case, I'll have to fill up my glass. I don't feel like remembering any of it when I wake up."  
  
"Don't you worry about that. I'll make sure you'll never want to forget." He signaled for the servants to refill our glasses. 


	110. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-04-803

The next day I woke up somewhere in the afternoon. Bjorn lay half on top of me, still snoring contentedly. I pushed his leg off of me and got up. Only when I arrived at the crib did I remember the twins had spent the night in the hall. I got some water and looked at Bjorn. Memories of last night slowly came back.  
  
He had carried me home, as I had predicted. I'd almost fallen asleep, until he carried me inside and put me on my feet. When he kissed me, I pulled the dress over my head and let it fall to the floor, Bjorn had kept me standing. It still lay in the same spot. Had Bjorn even closed the door? All I could remember was wanting to tear off his clothes.  
  
A blush rose to my cheeks as I remembered how loud I had been. With the children out of the house, I could finally let go again. Something resurfaced about sex on the table, as well. And on the floor. And against the wall. If there had been people watching, they'd not be disappointed. Judging by the soreness of it, we'd been at it for hours. Had I already been bleeding again, I was sure I'd be with child again after last night. The timing would have matched up if it was still the same as before. I had just put on a dress when someone knocked on the door. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make my headache soar. Casting a glance at Bjorn, I threw a fur over his crotch and opened the door.  
  
"Lagertha?” I cleared my throat, it felt sore as well. “I thought you'd have left by now."  
  
"I needed more time to gather men. Believe it or not, I got Harald to join me. We'll be leaving shortly. Is Bjorn awake?" I let her in, allowing to see for herself he was still in bed. "Well, you have been busy last night," she said with a wicked grin. She walked up to Bjorn and shook his leg.  
  
"Huh, what?" Bjorn said as he woke with a start. Other than feeling a bit groggy from being woken up, he seemed none the worse for the alcohol. Bastard. "Mother. What are you doing here?" I was wondering the same thing. Was she going to ask him to join, after all?  
  
"I wanted to ask you if you know why Erlendur would choose your wedding as an excuse to usurp me. The timing is too much of a coincidence." Bjorn removed the fur from his body and got up, reaching for some pants. I seemed to be the only one to feel a bit embarrassed.  
  
"I guess it could be jealousy. From what Ragnhild told me, that prick was ready to ask her to marry him." Now that he mentioned it, I remembered apologizing for that profusely last night. When he had tied the lacing, Bjorn walked over to the shelf and picked up Erlendur's ring. "I took this off a berserker who tried to kill me when I was away. It's his." Lagertha took the ring in her hand and inspected it.  
  
"Erlendur once told me he'd want to take care of me and the children, should anything happen to Bjorn. Knowing you'd be away for the wedding might have ticked him off." I kept my eyes on the ring as Bjorn came up to me, carefully touching my cheek. He had told me last night that I shouldn’t be too hard on myself for having an opinion that was wrong, as long as I admitted that I was wrong about it. Still, I felt ashamed.  
  
"Yes, that could very well be possible. He divorced Torvi as soon as we got back. I thought it strange, as he seemed very content treating her like a dog. He gave no reason, but Torvi was so relieved to hear him say it, she accepted immediately." Bjorn's face turned grim.  
  
"That's why you don't want me to come. You knew there was bad blood, and you don't want me to kill him."  
  
"Not before I can question him. I need to know who helped him."  
  
"I'm not a child anymore. I know how to deal with something like this."  
  
"Even when he taunts you? You have become calm and level-headed, but where Ragnhild is concerned you are over-protective and easily drawn out." Going against that statement would only prove Lagertha's point. He just grunted, knowing his mother was right. "I have to get going," she said as she gave the ring back to Bjorn, then turned to me. "Aslaug asked me to check with you if you could pick up the children. Will you walk with me?" I nodded and followed her out of the door, leaving Bjorn with his thoughts. I’d rather stay in and nurse my hangover, but if she needed me, I wanted to do what I could.  
  
"Do you really think Erlendur had much help?" I asked as we walked towards the hall.  
  
"I do. I know most of the shield maidens would never turn on me, so he must have found sympathizers who disagree with my rule. Maybe he even asked an outside force to help him." My mind instantly went to Harald, but he would’ve jumped on the chance to help Lagertha if that were so.  
  
"It worries me to hear you say that. If there are outsiders looking to defeat you, it might become much bigger should you fail in claiming back Hedeby."  
  
"I'll die before I let that happen. There is no other place for me." Her conviction surprised me.  
  
"Would you not consider coming back here? You have me and Bjorn, and the children."  
  
"That's sweet of you to say, but too much has happened between me and Ragnar. Aslaug would not be happy about it. I don't want to live somewhere I have to walk on eggshells all the time."  
  
"Then you'd better succeed." To hear her say it, the alternative was dying. We had reached the hall. Lagertha turned to face me.  
  
"Take care of my son. He needs you more than you know."  
  
"I will. I need him, too. May the gods keep you.” I watched her walk away, wishing I could be as strong as her. The way she carried herself, even now, I could only hope to be that strong one day.  
  
Inside, the hall was quiet. Ragnar must have fought with Aslaug again as he was still passed out, snoring so loudly I could hear him from the entrance.  
  
"Auntie!" Hvitserk seemed more excited about my new name than seeing me. His crying out made my head hurt, but I pretended I was fine.  
  
"Good morning. Did you have fun yesterday?"  
  
"It was amazing! There were so many people, and the food was delicious, and now you really are family!"  
  
"I’m glad to hear it. Speaking of family, how are the twins?"  
  
"They're still in the crib, but I think they're a bit hungry. I think Ivar woke them up, he's not feeling well. Mother took him to see Vinh again." He dragged me off to the crib to see for myself. They were both awake and started to fuss as they saw me.  
  
"Oh, just look at them!" Every time their hands touched, they made a grasping motion. I picked up Thormund, who calmed down as soon as he felt my heartbeat. "Do you think you can help me take home Siggy?"  
  
"Of course! I'm almost a man, I will take care of my sister." He picked her up with a childish deliberance, making sure every step was done right. First he got her out of the crib, then he made sure his one arm held onto her legs, and the other supported her head. He even made sure not to hold onto her too tightly.  
  
"She's getting heavy. Does that mean she's growing?"  
  
"Yes, she's doing very well. Remember when they were born? She's almost twice as heavy now, and Thormund is also doing fine."  
  
"But she's not really getting bigger."  
  
"That's just because you see them every day. They've grown quite a bit." The twins didn't seem worse for wear after their birth, gods bless them.  
  
Bjorn was up making breakfast as we came in. I watched Hvitserk hand over Siggy to Bjorn, seeing both were very careful with her.  
  
"Thank you so much for your help, Hvitserk."  
  
"You're welcome." With a last hug from both me and Bjorn, he took off again, almost skipping down the street.  
  
"I wish I could be that happy," Bjorn said with a sigh.  
  
"Just yesterday you were the happiest man alive,” I reminded him. “He'll have plenty of time to get used to the drama of being a Ragnarsson." I sat down and lowered my dress so I could feed Thormund. He eagerly latched on, his cheeks puffing up a bit as he suckled.  
  
"At least I've got a view to remember." He kissed me on the cheek before he went back to the bacon. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Worst hangover ever. I can't understand how I used to drink so much and not have a headache."  
  
"You know we're supposed to shut ourselves in for a moon and drink all that time, right?"  
  
"Like we have the time for that. Harald will be off to Hedeby with Lagertha, but I’m not at all at ease over him being around. And besides, I’d hate to not be able to feed the twins myself, I really shouldn’t have been drinking that much." "Yeah, about that..." He rarely let his sentences trail off like that anymore. He was up to something.  
  
"Bjorn?"  
  
"I might have prepared a little surprise, after hearing you talk about how weddings go over in the future." I took in a deep breath, him talking about it so casually made me feel a little on edge. "How about we spend a week away? Just the two of us."  
  
"A modern honeymoon?"  
  
"We still have some things to talk over, and I want to take some time to enjoy the fact you're my wife now." It felt good to hear him say that word out loud.  
  
"When can we leave?" He smiled, as if I’d amazed him once more. After more than three moons, I was dying to get away from the twins for a bit. It would be good for me to spend some time away from them, before I would be too afraid to leave them out of my sight at all.  
  
"You'll want to make sure the twins are well taken care of, and that Harald isn’t around them too much, so I was thinking we leave in a few days. We’ll be back before Harald."  
  
"That sounds amazing. Where are you taking me?"  
  
"I don't want to spend too much time traveling. There's a hunting cabin that's hardly used, I spent some time cleaning it up when I was there last week." I hadn’t even noticed, with all my wedding preparations and our fights.  
  
"You're amazing, did you know that?"  
  
"I know." He put a plate in front of me as he sat down next to me.


	111. Futurum Temporum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-04-803

Bjorn and I left for the cabin a few days after the wedding. Ragnar had agreed to take the twins for a little while, so we had nothing to worry about as we traveled inland towards the hunting cabin Bjorn meant for us to go to. Despite the thrills of parenthood and being newlyweds, we still needed to talk about what I'd told him. As we settled in, I felt nerves coming up. Bjorn noticed and put his arms around my waist as I put our sleeping furs on the bed.   
  
"What are you worried about? I married you, didn't I?" he asked. I put my hands on his arms and leaned into his chest.   
  
"I know, it's just... Things will change. They already have, and I don't know if I want them to change even more."   
  
"Like what?"   
  
"I don't know... Things." Bjorn scoffed a bit, then put his lips on my cheek.   
  
"If they will change, it will only be for the better. I know you were terrified of me finding out, but I promise you, I won't burn you at the stake. That would take too much time, anyway." I couldn't laugh about it yet. "I'm mostly just curious. I want to know what you know, I want to get to know this new part of you." I turned around in his arms, slinging my arms around his waist.   
  
"What do you want to know?" I had imagined us sitting at a table with strong mead in cups in front of us but talking like this might make it easier.   
  
"Well, I imagine there won’t be any easy answers, but let’s start with an easy question. What country are you from?"   
  
"It doesn't exist yet. I believe it's partially Francia, and Frisia will be part of it as well. I guess you'd translate the name to downlands, because it’s so flat." Bjorn nodded, having been there himself he knew it was the truth. So far, so good.   
  
"So that's why you knew about Frisia so much, and why I can understand some of the words you say. And the languages you speak?"   
  
"From my homeland, England, and the language that will develop when the Germanic tribes south of Denmark are united into a single country. When you got to the farmhouse when Borg had taken over, I muttered something in German, and you understood one of the words. I was terrified you'd find out I was actually from around here." The first of the confusion set in. Things would change, and his view of the world would collapse soon. I felt like a bitch for putting him through this.   
  
"Around here? Hedeby alone is five days away by boat."   
  
"Scandinavia and western Europe have a lot in common as far as customs and language is concerned. Did you bring the map? I can show you." I let go of Bjorn's waist and he went rummaging around his packs. He put the map on the table and sat down. I joined him, taking a deep breath as I noticed he had put it in front of us upside down.   
  
"Right about here is where I come from. This edge here in Spain is actually far more straight, and in my time there are much more isles in the Mediterranean sea, and they're way smaller. This entire part of the world is called Europe. Down here, that's another continent called Africa. Right around here is where Asia is, which is about five times the size of Europe, if not more. Africa is about the same size." I held my hands apart next to the map. "And the ocean is about this large on the west. Then you come across a huge continent as well, and then another huge stretch of sea before you come across Asia again."   
  
Bjorn scoffed as he leaned to the side, read my face to see if I was making a joke, then stared at our hands as I put mine on his.   
  
"How can that be?"   
  
"The world is round, like a ball. If you keep walking and sailing and climbing in any direction, you will travel around it and come back to the same point. It doesn't matter where you start or which way you go."   
  
"You've told me that before, but..." He needed proof he could understand, something he had seen for himself.   
  
"Just look at England. It's not true west from Kattegat. It's south-west, and that’s because the earth revolves around the sun, and it travels in a line about here, further down Africa. At noon, the sun does not point west. It's south-west, because of the distance between Kattegat and that middle line." The distance between Norway and my hand was humongous to Bjorn, I could see it in his eyes. His dream of reaching the Mediterranean must have seemed childish by comparison.   
  
"How long would it take to travel around the world?"   
  
"That depends. In this time, probably a year or two. In my time about a day, but it could be faster if you have specialized devices. It's about forty thousand kilometers, which means..." I sucked some air through my teeth as I calculated. "About 25 thousand miles." Bjorn sat back at that.   
  
"We've barely scratched the surface, then."   
  
"You'll do fine. The Viking will be the first to sail to that continent in between oceans, in about 400 years or so. But you won't like it and travel back after a few years. I'm not sure if there'll be settlements, but if there are, they won't last. We never found a lot of remnants."   
  
"Remnants? We won't survive?" I could see him struggling. He didn’t know what to think, or what to believe. As far as he was concerned the Viking had always gone raiding, they had always lived their lives like we did now.   
  
"Your way of life will change. The world might seem big now, but it'll grow smaller. It'll be easier to travel, communication will go much easier, and the world will become very violent at first, and then less dangerous. It won't happen for some time, but the world is changing. Even here in the markets, I can find more and more things from all around the world. That Kris knife comes from the other end of the world. I've found stuff from the west side of Africa, from China, where that servant girl Idu is from. Soon countries will grow larger and larger, being able to defend themselves better all the time. Most great cities already exist, or will be founded in the next three hundred years or so."   
  
"What happens when there's no more room for new cities?" he asked as he let his fingers slide over the back of my hand. It tickled a bit, and made me think that Bjorn felt the need to comfort me. If anything he needed comfort, but he must have wanted to do something that he understood.   
  
"We try and find new places to go,” I said. He cocked his head, but his face remained still.   
  
"But you said the world was growing smaller."   
  
"So we travel across the stars. We haven't come very far yet, but we can see a lot. There are nine planets that orbit our sun, but we're on the only one that we can live on."   
  
"Those flying boats..."   
  
"It is a made up story, but a very popular one. As far as I know we've been able to send a few people to the moon, and some unmanned boats to the closest planet."   
  
"Are those planets the nine realms?" I dreaded having to answer his question.   
  
"No. We could find no evidence of anything having ever lived there. They are either too warm or too cold to sustain life." His face remained impassive, but I felt the turmoil spinning around in his head. His entire view of the world came crashing down. "They still might exist, but they're not beyond our planet."   
  
"How can that be?" He said it with more anger than he meant.   
  
"If Yggdrasil carries the nine realms, they could be in different dimensions. Similar versions of this world, but existing on a different plane. We could never find them or travel to them, not unless a god were to send us there. And yes, I'm very certain I'm from this realm, and not another one. From what I've heard of them, they sound nothing like what I know." I put a hand on Bjorn's fist. Things were changing, and I wanted to make sure Bjorn knew I was here for him.   
  
"I'm having trouble believing it." He didn't want to call me a liar, but the way his eyes stared at the map... He was having a hard time coming to terms with everything. Maybe a different topic would help ease his mind. Answering some of his questions might help.   
  
"When I grew up, I didn't learn how to fish, or hunt, or wield a weapon. I was taught to understand the world. I learned to read and write, how to speak and understand different languages. There were all kinds of topics, like history and how the earth works. How mountains are shaped, and why the sea has tides, how trees grow and why the winds blow."   
  
"That's not all done by the gods?" he asked. Shit.   
  
"There are certain laws to nature. Like how animals survive, and adapt to changes in their environment. How fast a rock can fall down to earth when it falls from the sky, or certain patterns the winds and sea currents follow. As far as my time is considered, those things just are. But it could be those laws were put in place by the gods."   
  
"Then why doesn't everyone believe in the gods?"   
  
"Because we have the answers to why many miracles happen. To you it might make no sense why the sun will sometimes be blotted out from the sky, but we know it's just the moon passing in front of the sun. When a storm passes over, we know it's because of the wind patterns. When rain falls, we know it's because the clouds are actually tiny water drops, too light to fall yet, until they grow too heavy and start to fall."   
  
"And why does the wind blow?"   
  
"Because it's colder here than it is on other places on earth. It's warmer to the south, because it's closer to the sun. As the air heats up, it starts to move up, and the colder air replaces it. The air above the sea is colder than that above land because the sea is not able to keep the heat in as well as the land. If the differences get bad enough, a storm forms." I didn't exactly know how lightning and thunder came into it, but I figured I'd leave at least some part of the wonder of the gods intact, at least for now.   
  
"And because the winter is colder than the summer, the moons where they touch are filled with rain and storms," Bjorn said, a question lingering in his eyes. I was amazed he was able to connect those dots based on the information I told him. I hadn’t known he was this quick to grasp these kinds of concepts.   
  
"Yes, that's right." He nodded his head in understanding.   
  
"I think it makes sense, but it's a lot to take in. I'm sure we'll find a way to make sure all this knowledge will benefit us." My eyes narrowed at that.   
  
"I might have told you, but I think it'd be a mistake to tell others. They might not be as understanding as you, and think of me as a threat." Bjorn let out a deep sigh.   
  
"There are already plenty of men hoping to steal you away. Kalf and Erlendur were just the beginning." I hoped it would become less now that we were married, but to say so out loud would be tempting the gods. Grateful as I was for the freedom it had gotten me, it also meant I was a target.   
  
"And they didn't even know what you do now,” I reminded him.   
  
"I'll keep your secret. I know you'll never use it against me, but it could be useful to have a way to communicate without others finding out."   
  
"Like special signs or something?"   
  
"Like a language only the two of us speak." My eyes opened wide with surprise.   
  
"You mean Dutch? You want to learn my language?" He had mentioned it before, but that was only out of jealousy.   
  
"I do," he said with a warm smile on his face. Just the thought of him wanting to learn my language filled me with hope and love. This was even better than I had hoped it would turn out. "From what I've heard you say, barely any words are similar to Norse. Will you teach me?"   
  
"Of course I will. We could start right away." I scrambled to remember how Athelstan had started off teaching me Norse, but it might be best to start with some phrases that we could use to have a private conversation.   
  
"How do I say I love you?" he asked.   
  
"Ik hou van je." He repeated the words back to me. Hearing them from his lips meant the world to me.   
  
"And how do you say I want to fuck you?" My body shuddered.   
  
"Ik wil je neuken."   
  
"Ick vil je noiken."   
  
"You're a natural."   
  
"I had a great teacher." He stood up and towered above me, then bent down a bit to kiss me. From the start it was a fierce kiss. I tried to get up, but Bjorn kept me down. He put my arms around his neck and lifted me up, keeping the kiss going. Instead of moving to the bed, he put me on top of the table. I heard the seats moving around, then he pulled up my skirts. My hands moved to his shirt, but he grabbed my arms and held them behind my back. A smile appeared on my face, relishing in the thought of what was to come.   
  
"What are you smiling about?" Bjorn said before he started kissing my neck.   
  
"I've missed this. Us."   
  
"Really? You want me to noiken you that badly?" He undid the lacing on my dress with one hand, tearing at the strings. "I had no idea." A moan escaped my mouth as he moved a hand across my breasts, still covered by my dress. He let go of my hands for a second to remove it, then wrapped a fist in my hair, pulling softly so I looked up at him. "Tell me how badly you want it." I licked my lips, eager to feel him inside of me.   
  
"I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me scream out your name. I want you to make me come at least a thousand times."   
  
"Well, aren't you greedy. I might just give it a try." He let go of my hair and held onto my wrists with one hand, moving the other across my breasts. They had been sensitive since the twins were born. When he locked his lips around a nipple, I gasped for air. His hand drifted down to my legs, teasing me by moving closer, only to shy away at the last moment.   
  
"You fucking tease," I breathed. "Please Bjorn, let me come."   
  
"I want to see that look on your face," he told me as he picked me up again. "I want you to beg, until you can't remember your name." He lay me down on the bed and undressed, then lay on top of me. "That's right, keep your arms above your head. I don't want to have to tie you down." The thought of being that helpless and vulnerable made me even wetter. As his hands and mouth started pleasuring me again, I was heavily debating if I even wanted him to interrupt what he was doing. My body made the decision for me as my hands started to move towards his head.   
  
Before I touched him, he stopped and got up. Cursing myself for having to wait even longer until I'd find release, I put my hands above my head again. I bit my lip as I saw him approaching with a length of rope in his hands. He had come here prepared. Within seconds I felt the rope binding my wrists together, then being pulled even further up as he had found somewhere to tie the rope to.   
  
"Now you'll have to wait even longer," he whispered in my ear as he flicked a finger to my hard nipples. A short groan escaped my mouth. My breathing became labored. "You silly woman. I can hold out longer than you."   
  
"No, please Bjorn. Just once, I can wait after that. Just let me come once and then I'll wait for as long as you want me to." He remained silent, moving a finger through my folds. He lingered when he reached my clitoris, moving painfully slow. I had to fight the urge to move my hips. That would only make it worse.   
  
"You're so wet already," he said with a crooked smile. He licked his finger clean, then put his knees next to my thighs. His hands moved all over my body, touching everywhere but where I wanted to feel him. I let out a disapproving moan, biting my lip. As he looked down at me he moved to kiss me, but our lips didn't touch.   
  
"Please, Bjorn..." I felt his cock touching my belly. He was just as ready for this as me. I knew it was pointless, though. He hadn't even brought me to the edge yet.   
  
"Yes, that's it." His fingers moved to my breasts, fondling them ever so slightly. I threw back my head as he grazed a nipple. "Fuck, you're gorgeous... Look at me." I opened my eyes and saw my own lust reflected in his eyes. One of his hands traveled down to my stomach as he leaned back onto his knees, taking many a detour as he inched closer to its target.   
  
I sighed as he brushed past my clitoris, once again moving slow. I bit my lip again as I moaned and tried to maintain eye contact. A spasm went through my chest. Bjorn dipped in a finger, making me writhe underneath him. A second soon followed, reaching for my g-spot. He was getting restless himself.   
  
I hid a smile by opening my mouth, leaving Bjorn breathless as I gasped and moaned. Glancing downward, I saw he was jerking off slowly. He was just as aroused as I was, if not more. A high-pitched moan passed my lips as Bjorn suddenly increased his pace. My back arched away from the furs, pushing my breasts up. I was about to come, but then Bjorn stopped.   
  
"Oh, fuck... Bjorn, please... I'll do anything, please. Just this once..."   
  
"Not a fucking chance. You know what I want to hear." Bjorn leaned into me and started playing with my nipples as he kissed my neck.   
  
"Just fuck me already. I know you want to. You know I want you to." My eyes dared him to just take me. I loved teasing him back as far as I could, and I could see the doubt play across Bjorn's face. He said nothing, letting his fingers speak for him. He wasn't going to give me what I wanted until I gave him what he wanted. I started writhing and moaning as I felt his fingers tormenting me again. I desperately wanted to stay in control, but it grew harder by the second.   
  
"Give it to me," Bjorn said. His lips closed around a nipple, sucking softly. That's when I lost it. I gave over control, wanting him to give me release and pleasure.   
  
"Fuck me, Bjorn. Fuck me hard. I want to feel you inside me, please fuck me. I beg you, I'll do anything, but please fuck me. Please, please, please fill me with your seed. I beg you." Bjorn groaned, as if my words were enough to arouse him even further.   
  
He wasted no time getting on his knees in front of me, pulling a leg over his shoulder and taking what was his. I wanted to keep looking at him, but as soon as his thumb touched my clitoris I came. My moans only encouraged Bjorn to fuck me even harder.   
  
"Oh gods, thank you... Thank you, thank you, thank... Ohh..." He kept thrusting and stimulating me with his thumb, and I couldn't tell if I was coming again or if this was still the same orgasm. It didn't matter. I felt my cunt contracting around his cock, making me even hornier.   
  
Bjorn was relentless. He kept me going for so long I felt my throat went dry. My moans became hoarser. I could barely remember the sex on our wedding night, but it must have been close to this.   
  
"That's it, my love. Keep coming for me. Show me how much you love my cock." I only stopped writhing and moaning when Bjorn lowered my leg and pulled back. I thought he'd come as well, but he turned my body around and forced me on my knees. With my arms still above my head, I felt him pull my hips closer to his. He drove right back in, pounding away at me. I could barely hold it together. With my head turned sideways, I tried to breathe. Bjorn put a hand between my shoulder blades and pressed me down towards the furs, keeping my hips up with his other. My breasts touched the fur, causing even more stimulation. In this angle I could feel his balls hitting my clitoris even better. All I could do was utter a guttural moan and feel the pleasure wash over me. Wave after wave rolled past. I felt Bjorn's fingernails dig into my flesh, followed by a long, satisfied groan.   
  
He pulled my knees out from under me and lay down on top of me. His face nuzzled my neck, inhaling my scent and kissing my hot skin. I managed to swallow, my moans turning into contended sighs.   
  
"Fucking hel, Ragnhild. Gods, how I missed this." I turned my head around, finding his face up close to mine. He kissed me passionately, almost as if we still had to start. He pulled at the rope, loosening the knot enough for me to get out my wrists. I left them lying there, basking in the afterglow. Ever since sex was no longer painful for me we had to go about it quietly to keep the twins from waking up, and in between the wedding preparations and our fights we hadn’t taken the effort to get away like this.   
  
"I miss being able to scream out loud like that. The things you can make me feel... I'd almost feel sorry for all the women in the world, but I'd be too jealous. I want to keep you all to myself." Another passionate kiss followed, then Bjorn rolled to the side and pulled at my hips, taking me in a tight embrace. With my back against his chest, I lowered my arms a bit, but I didn't want to interfere with his hands moving across the front and side of my body. I felt my body react to his touch. His semen slowly dripped out of me, making me feel dirty in a good way.   
  
"You've been very naughty," Bjorn whispered in my ear. "Teaching me all these things. Half the stuff we do, no one else has even heard about." I chuckled at that.   
  
"You make me sound like a vixen."   
  
"Aren't you? I told some of my friends what we tend to do and they all got very uncomfortable. They never even thought of doing what we do." I didn’t even bother getting angry at him slipping up on the subject. I knew there were plenty of stories about our sex life, as there had been many women asking me all about it.   
  
"Maybe now they'll understand how you can make me come so loud."   
  
"I'm sure there will be many babies born in about ten moons." His eyes held a naughty twinkle, a shimmer of hope.   
  
"I haven't bled yet, it could be a while until my body is ready for it."   
  
"I don't mind. We already have two. We can wait for a bit."   
  
"If it were up to me, we'll wait at least a year or two." The twins were still on the breast as it was, they weren’t ready for solids yet.   
  
"It's not really up to us. It's not like you can put a curse on yourself here." I slowly turned my head around to see his face. "I figured it out when I was away. Floki once told me how that curse of yours looked, and how it was a real thing he could touch. It must have been some way to prevent you from bearing children, as it also meant you didn't bleed."   
  
"There are many ways to prevent it, and I happened to choose the one kind that needed to be removed like that. I could've had pills, or a device underneath my skin, but that one lasted for five years. It had to be removed either way."   
  
"You got it when you were eighteen?"   
  
"My parents wouldn't allow me to have any form of birth control, and until I was eighteen and left them I wasn't able to get it without them finding out."   
  
"And your markings?"   
  
"We call them tattoos. I got them all in those five years. The cats are a memory of the ones that made my life a little easier back home. They died right before I left. The one on my back is actually a funny story. There was this performance I used to watch, about three sisters that were witches. That's the symbol they used to unite themselves. I had it put upside down to make it less obvious where it came from."   
  
"And the heart?" I took in a deep breath as I felt his fingers slide over the inked skin on my hip.   
  
"I was in a relationship for two years. I thought he'd always keep me safe, so I had it done after we were together for a year. After that, things took a turn for the worse. He started treating me like... Well, like a servant. I had to do what he said, when he said it. Near the end he wouldn't let me leave the house without him being with me, he decided what I could wear, what I could do... And I let him, because I didn't want to lose him." Bjorn stopped caressing my skin, and I knew I should have told him before.   
  
"What happened? Did you run away again?"   
  
"He died. He got in an accident with one of those iron horses I told you about. He was drunk and hit a tree. After that I tried to take my own life, but my brother found me. He made sure I survived, and I hated him for it. After a while, I realized I wasn't sad because he had died. I was just sad I was alone again."   
  
"You never told me about him. Just that you had a long relationship, but never any more about it." Bjorn let me play with his arm ring. As I spun it around I tried to make sense of my feelings.   
  
"I was ashamed. I still am. I tried so hard to break free from my parents, and then I let myself get used like that again. And as I realized you wanted to give me all the things I thought I had found with him... The shame only got worse. Are you mad?"   
  
"I'm not, I'm just... disappointed. I thought I knew about your past, and now..."   
  
"That's even worse. I know I should've told you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."   
  
"Are there any other things you haven't told me? Apart from the obvious ones?" I thought for a bit, even though I knew the answer.   
  
"That's it. The rest all has to do with me being from the future. There are still some bad things, but I couldn't explain those without telling you about where I come from." Bjorn pulled aside my hair and kissed the nape of my neck. His lips told me he wasn’t mad, and his hands told me we were past the hardest part of the conversation about my past.   
  
"I'm glad you told me. Even though it was hard to come to terms with it." I shifted around in his arms, facing him to hear his story. "It wasn't even that hard to believe you. You've told me so many things that I was confused about, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Iron horses, traveling so fast, the words I recognized from the languages you speak. Even all those weird things you seem to know about, like that pasta and the herbs. The most difficult was if I could live with the fact you could change my fate. That's something the gods decide. To be honest, I spent most my days thinking of how a future with you could look like, or being angry at you for being able to defy the gods."   
  
"It also sounds like you were afraid of me."   
  
"I'm not sure. Who knows what you know. You could kill a man with just a word. But then I took my own advice and went with what I know, not what I could hear that voice in the back of my head say. You'd never hurt anyone without good reason, and all the times you did, it was to fight my family's enemies. You're not the kind of person to use what you know against those you love for your own gain. And I know you love me." His words made me smile. He was full of conviction, he would make the same decision today, and for the rest of our lives.   
  
"So you trust me. That's why you came back."   
  
"I always meant to come back. You were carrying our children. I couldn't ever leave you like that." I kissed him on his cheek.   
  
"How do you see our future now?" I asked.   
  
"I want to get to know this whole new side of you. I want to have more children. I don't know if I'll ever become king after my father, but if I do, I want you beside me as my queen."   
  
"That's how I see our future as well." Bjorn moved to rest on his elbow, then kissed me on my lips. He put his legs on top of mine, and his hand started moving across my side again. I put a hand to his cheek, deepening the kiss. Our breathing grew heavy again.   
  
His hand moved down along my back, then disappeared between my legs. I moved my body against his, pressing my breasts to his chest. His fingers found my folds, slowly finding their way through his own seed that still clung to me.   
  
"Bjorn," I moaned as he entered me. I felt myself getting aroused again. He held me tight as he continued, until I shuddered in his arms from release.   
  
"I love you almost as much as that face of yours," he said with a sly smile. I wanted to object, but I was still moaning in pleasure. "My sweet Ragnhild... What would I ever do without you?" He kissed me on my forehead as made me come again. 


	112. Arm Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-04-803

Having spent a week alone with Bjorn did wonders for our relationship. I taught him some Dutch, I told him about my time, he told me about his thoughts and feelings in the interior, and we had lots of sex. But the best thing by far was not having to worry about the twins. Finally, I could sleep in late again, and take my sweet time doing whatever it was I was doing. Bjorn seemed to be doing better as well. The dark circles around his eyes had almost disappeared, and he smiled a lot more. With me he could let his wall of calm down a little, but most of it had become a part of him.  
  
When the village came back into view I almost felt sad to come back, but I yearned to hold my children as well. The great hall was buzzing with excitement, apparently there was a Thing planned for this evening. I greeted a few familiar faces, but hurried along to the back to find my babies. To my surprise, Ubbe was holding Siggy.   
  
"Ragnhild! Thank god you're back, it's been crazy around here." I took over my baby girl and held her tight, ignoring Aslaug's exclamation. She left immediately for the front of the hall.   
  
"Oh, sweety, I've missed you, too." Ubbe seemed unsure if I was talking to him or the baby. I put him at ease with a smile and a kiss on his forehead. "What's going on? And where's Thormund?"  
  
"He's with father, mother's been busy trying to get everything ready. Harald's back, and his brother is with him. Father wants to go to England." I raised an eyebrow at that. Harald was convinced Ragnar would be sailing towards Paris again.   
  
"Does Harald know?"  
  
"I don't think so. He asked about you, though. He doesn't understand why you left to begin with." I imagined not a lot of people would get it, but as far as Bjorn and I were concerned, we’d make trips like these more often.  
  
"Thank you, Ubbe. I'll go find him. Bjorn wants to talk to you, but I think it will have to wait until tomorrow. We’ll have to deal with Harald first.”   
  
"What's it about?" I let a mysterious grin take hold of my face.   
  
"It's his secret to tell, not mine. You'll love it, I'm sure." Ubbe wanted to give me an appraising look, but he couldn't hide his enthusiasm. Ubbe loved spending time with his big brother, which always was a nice reprieve from having to be the big brother himself. "Come on, let's go show our faces."  
  
Harald quickly spotted me and came to greet me.   
  
"Ragnhild! Good to see you, you look beautiful. May I?" Aslaug and Ragnar had kept him away from the twins, apparently. I was glad to hear it, as Harald once told me he would kill my children if it would benefit him.  
  
"Harald, it's so nice to see you again. I take it things went well in Hedeby?" I said as I handed off Siggy.   
  
"Well enough. That rat escaped, but Lagertha’s lands and people are safe. Is this the boy or the girl?" I was relieved to hear it. Lagertha was safe, and judging by the distinctive laughter going around Floki was back in one piece, as well.   
  
"This is Siggy, my daughter."  
  
"I must admit, I wasn't surprised to hear you gave birth to twins. But to have them both survive..." He touched her nose softly, which made Siggy coo. She got hold of his braid and held it tight.   
  
"I never doubted I'd lose one of them for a second. You'd be amazed what a little faith can do." From the corner of my eye I saw Ragnar and waved him over. I was dying to hold Thormund again.   
  
"Aye, the gods are capable of great feats. I heard you were on a err…”  
  
“A personal trip, yes. Just to get out of town for a bit, Bjorn and I just got back.” The concept of a holiday was completely strange to him, as it had been to everyone we told about it. Trips were supposed to be useful, not for fun.   
  
"I see you've already found Harald," Ragnar said as he reached us.   
  
"Ah, there he is! Oh, look at you, you’ll be fierce one day." I took Thormund in my arms and raised him up a bit, basking in his joy as he recognized me. "I missed you, are you happy to see me as well? Did grandma and grandpa take good care of you like they promised?" As I held him close, I saw Ragnar looked very pleased with himself.  
  
"I take it you enjoyed your time off with Bjorn?" he asked.   
  
"Yes, it was wonderful. We're all rested and happy again."  
  
"Will you let him go with us?" I laughed at that, as if I'd force him to stay with me if he wanted to go.   
  
"Yes, he plans on joining you. We'll have to figure something out for the babies, but we still have some time for that." Harald and Ragnar seemed pleased at the news, but for very different reasons.   
  
"Brother mine, what is that in your arms?" I turned around and saw a man with even more black markings in his face than Harald. So this was Halfdan the Black. He looked a little scrawny compared to the others.  
  
"This is Siggy, Ragnhild's baby. One of them, at least." Halfdan scrunched up his nose. He was not a baby person.   
  
"She stinks."   
  
"I just changed them an hour ago, and they bathed this morning," Ragnar said, a little too proud of his accomplishment. That was not something kings did, in fact. He was making good on his promise that he would love them just as fiercely as I did. Right before we left I had overheard Bjorn telling his father that bathing the twins was good for bonding, and he apparently tried it for himself.  
  
"Halfdan, I'd like you to meet Ragnhild. She's the one that gave me that fine comb." I saw his eyes take me in from top to toe. His face showed no reaction at all.   
  
"Pleased to meet you," he said curtly. "You're Bjorn's fiancée, aren't you?" He must have been fresh off the boat.  
  
"Wife, since a week. Pleased to meet you, too." I resisted the urge to flaunt off my ring.  
  
"You gave my brother some sage advice, I heard. It was quite clever to bribe him the way you did." Ragnar breathed in deep, obviously unhappy to be talking about it before the Thing. "Perhaps you'd honor me with some advice as well, after the Thing." I needed to talk to Ragnar first though, to bring him up to speed about what had happened in the last week and his change of plans.   
  
"I suspect the children will need to be put to bed by then, but I have some time tomorrow," I offered. Ragnar lightly touched my back, out of sight from the others, signaling he'd come and find me before then.  
  
"I'd like to talk without the children distracting us, if that's possible." I bit my lip for a bit. I didn't want to be parted from them so soon after I got back, but I felt like this would be an important talk.   
  
"I'll see what I can do. Come by tomorrow morning, if it's still early Bjorn can watch the twins."  
  
"How will I find you?"  
  
"Look for the house with flowers starting to bloom in front of it, past the main road. Anyone from the village can tell you where it is." If these were strange directions, Halfdan didn't let it show.   
  
"Well, let's get this Thing started," Ragnar said. He seemed a bit impatient to get it over with. As he walked towards the dais Harald seemed a bit unsure what to do with Siggy, but I took his arm in mine and dragged him to the front with the babies still in our arms. Bjorn was standing close to his father. When he spotted me I winked at him, which made him smile.   
  
"They'd better not start crying," I heard Halfdan mutter.   
  
"As long as they don't have to see your face they should be fine," I retorted. Harald snickered at that, then started rocking Siggy carefully to avoid Halfdan’s sneer. It was clear Halfdan was quite a different man from his brother.   
  
"Tonight is a very special night," Ragnar called out. "Because tonight, my two sons, Ubbe and Hvitserk, will receive their sacred arm rings." My eyes immediately flashed towards Bjorn and Aslaug. Bjorn's eyes showed no surprise, but Aslaug was visibly uncomfortable. She didn't dare go against her husband, though. Bjorn had only received his arm ring at twelve, the boys were eight and six. I hadn't seen or heard much about the ceremony, but I wasn't the only one surprised to see it happen so early. It was over in the blink of an eye, the crowd cheering them on as Aslaug kissed her sons on the mouth. Thormund started to fuss a bit, but as I rocked him a bit he calmed down again.   
  
"My sons will be joining us on our next raid to England, in four weeks." My eyes widened at that. Ubbe and Hvitserk going on a raid? They were much too young for something like that. Arm rings was one thing, but this… What had I missed?  
  
"I thought we'd be going to Paris," Halfdan said between his teeth.   
  
"So did I," Harald said as he turned to me. Thank the gods for the genuine surprised look on my face.   
  
"This is news to me, too," I said. "I've been out of the village for the past week, I didn't think I'd miss that much."  
  
"I thought you knew everything," Harald said with a bite of reproach.   
  
"If you think you know everything, all you know is nothing," I said, paraphrasing a Greek philosopher. "I'm curious as to why Ragnar wants to go to England as much as you are." We remained silent through the rest of the Thing. There weren't any executions to follow tomorrow, but some thieves were convicted.   
  
Before I sat down for the feast, I signaled a servant to take Siggy and Thormund to the back so I could enjoy the meal. Harald was seated next to Aslaug, but Halfdan sat next to me, Bjorn on my other side.   
  
"Did you know?" I asked Bjorn softly in Dutch. He looked surprised for a bit, then nodded his head. That dual language thing was already coming in handy.   
  
"Short," he whispered back in Dutch. I sat up straight again, not knowing what to think about the boys having received their arm rings. They were beaming up at me, both eager to show their rings off to me, and I gave them a grand smile.   
  
"You look a lot better without a baby in your arms," Halfdan said. "A lot less like a mother."  
  
"There's no accounting for taste," I said with a kind smile. He smirked at that and called for more ale. That man must've had a liver as big as my proverbial heart. This was his third horn already, and I'd only been standing next to him for about an hour. "I see your liver must be as well-trained as your sword arm.”   
  
"I believe in an all-round training. I see your cup is still empty."  
  
"It's been a long time since I drank ale or mead. I didn't drink during my pregnancy, or now while I’m nursing."  
  
"Why not?" he asked.  
  
"It's a custom back in my homeland. We also refrain from fish, raw meat and soft cheese during pregnancy."  
  
"That must have been awful. Why deny yourself such simple pleasures?" Because they could harm the babies.   
  
"Why do you sacrifice goats for good luck? It's just the way it is. I have grown accustomed to most of the Viking ways, but I still like to keep some of my own from time to time."  
  
"Like swimming in the sea the day after Yol? I take it you skipped it this year." I signaled for my cup to be filled. If he was to spout about all of my holy vessel shtick, I'd need it. The twins could survive on goat’s milk for a night longer before I went back to feeding them.  
  
"Yes, I did. What else have you heard about my strange ways?" I'd rather have all of it out in the open as soon as possible.   
  
"I heard the weirdest rumor you got Horik's heir to renounce his title, after only five minutes of talking to him." So that's what he wanted to talk to me about. He was worried I'd done something similar to his brother.   
  
"If I did, it was not my intention to do so. I just talked to him about his hopes and dreams. Wherever he is now, I hope he's happy."  
  
"And do you want that for my brother as well?" What had Harald been telling Halfdan?   
  
"Ragnhild wants everyone to be happy. You must have heard what she did for Torvi as well," Bjorn interjected. I used the time to eat a bite, the ale was starting to get to my head already.  
  
"Yes," Halfdan said. "I've heard you have the most peculiar effect on those around you." He had spoken to Ragnar this afternoon, at least.  
  
"You say that like it's a bad thing," I said with a sly smile. Let him think me a danger. I'd prove him wrong soon enough.   
  
"If you use that to deter my brother from achieving his goal, it is." Halfdan didn't leave anything half said. Even for a Viking he was very direct.   
  
"Goals and hopes can change. When I was young, I wanted to travel across the stars. Then I grew up and learned to set a realistic goal for myself."  
  
"You think we're on some fool's errand? We mean to conquer all of Norway." Harald shot his brother a warning look from across the table. Reminding the enemy of what they were planning was not a good thing, despite the openness of his intentions earlier.   
  
"And I'm sure you believe that. I happen to believe you won't. But if I alone am able to deter your brother, how strong was his resolve to start with? Do you think me some kind of witch that enchanted him? If that were so, I'd never have spent my first year here a slave." This seemed to relax Halfdan, if only a bit. I made sense to him.  
  
"So that's true?" he asked.   
  
"Yes. I started out sleeping in a barn, and now I'm sitting here beside you."  
  
"Is it true you hold the fate of the Viking in your hands?"  
  
"Would you hold it against me?" I called for my horn to be refilled, much to Halfdan's surprise. His was still half full. He chugged it down and let his be refilled as well.   
  
"Not if you're able to drink like that," he said with a smirk. His image of me being a boring housewife had already changed. I looked forward to talking to him tomorrow, already.


	113. Family Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13-04-803

Later that evening Ragnar managed to sneak away from the festivities and came with me and Bjorn on our way home. As the babies were falling asleep, we talked in hushed tones about Harald and Halfdan. I brought Ragnar up to speed on what had happened during the Thing, and how Halfdan had behaved during the feast.   
  
"How did you even find out about him and Harald? Me and Bjorn hadn't heard of him before,” Ragnar said.  
  
"You once told me I'd need to find a way to get information for myself, so I built up a network of informants. They're by no means loyal to me, but they are loyal to the money I give them." One look around the room told Ragnar what my network was built of. There were still many strange objects, although I'd gotten rid of at least half of them as Bjorn had asked me.   
  
"Let me know if you find out anything worthwhile," Ragnar said with a smile that told me he was impressed.  
  
"It's been quiet lately, I haven't been able to go to the market as often as I used to. This spring should bring in some new gossip, though. Lagertha seems to be doing well, in any case. Erlendur must have had quite some help to take her throne, but he didn’t have much help defending it." I didn't miss the spark in Ragnar's eyes at that. He still cared for her a lot. I just worried about who had helped him, and why. Whoever it was, he was still out there somewhere.  
  
"Did you have a chance to talk to Harald about England?" Bjorn asked me. "They didn't seem pleased."   
  
"I told them I was unaware of it, as we've been gone for the week. I was quite surprised myself, I must say." Ragnar shook his head.  
  
"Paris will have to rebuild their walls before they feel safe hoarding stuff again," Ragnar explained. "And they'll build it even better and stronger, unless I miss my guess. I mean to hold Ecbert to his promise of land from some time back. I'd say they're ripe for a visit by now. It's the safer option, and a lot less bloody. Paris cost us dearly as far as able fighting men go. A bit of easy pickings will keep them satisfied and loyal." That made sense, but it would slow down Ragnar's momentum.   
  
"What about Rollo? Have you heard something about how the camp is doing?" Ragnar's face soured at my question.   
  
"A survivor made it back a few days ago. He claimed Rollo married a princess and slaughtered the whole camp. He has denounced the gods and now lives in a castle." My mouth fell open at that. No wonder he had changed up the plans this much.  
  
"The prophecy..."  
  
"It seems it didn't relate to the two of you. The people in Paris refer to him as a fighting bear." I was awestruck at that. At least it would make my life a lot easier. I had dreaded having to go up against Ragnar, or cause him trouble, but now I had to help deal with this pile of shit.  
  
"That fucking Seer," Bjorn said angrily.   
  
"He'll be in danger, though," I mused. "If he's been bribed into defending Paris against us, he'll only be safe there as long as we are a credible threat. In which case it's a brilliant move to not go there this summer. Who knows what can happen in a year's time? The Frankish court is famous for its backstabbing and plotting." Ragnar bowed his head gracefully at my compliment.   
  
"I assume you don't want Rollo's betrayal to get public?" Bjorn asked.   
  
"Even better. I plan on everyone knowing it after tonight."  
  
"That could go either way," I said a bit doubtful.   
  
"People will want revenge for their family, but it's a good reason for Harald to follow us to England. And we need to keep a close eye on him. If people were to hear the news from him, they would be even less likely to go along with the plan." Ragnar would get Harald to join him, probably for this raid and the next, but to put the people against him… It was the boldness Ragnar was known for, if he could pull this off it would be amazing to behold.  
  
"I’ll talk to Harald when I get back to the hall, Floki is already spreading the word. I had to make a choice. And I couldn't wait on this one as I might have once done where other kings were concerned." I felt there was an insult directed at me in there somewhere, but I let it slide.   
  
"Halfdan will come visit here tomorrow morning. I think he wants to talk about what I've told his brother. Is there anything you'd like me to pass on?" Ragnar thought for a minute.   
  
"Just get on his good side. Show him that blanket if you want to." That was always a safe bet to get people to listen to me, but in Halfdan’s case I wasn’t so sure about it.   
  
"He wanted to talk privately. Could you watch the twins, honey? He'll be here early." Bjorn nodded.   
  
"Ubbe will come by in the morning as well. We can wait here until you get back." Then he turned to his father. "I thought he'd like to train with me a bit, get a better hang of the sword." Ragnar smiled at that.   
  
"It seems you two have six children already," he smirked. "It warms my heart to see how much you care for them. With Ivar being what he is..."  
  
"Sigurd seems to be having a hard time, though," I said a bit worried. "With me having to take care of the twins, and Aslaug mainly concerned with Ivar, I think he feels abandoned. When you two go raiding, he'll have no one to turn to."  
  
"I've noticed as well," Ragnar said, equally concerned. "I might have a solution, though. I could get Aslaug to have her help you during the raid, and in exchange you might be able to watch Sigurd." Bjorn sighed deeply, knowing I'd say yes. I had thought of a similar plan, though, and had put some thought into it already.  
  
"If Bjorn agrees, and if Sigurd can accept he's not my priority, I think we can work something out. He’ll stay in the hall, but I will come by every day to make sure he’s doing well. Idu has been warming up to me, if she can help me out with the chores I’ll even have some time for myself, so I won’t just get by." Ragnar and Bjorn took each other in, and I could see how Bjorn knew this was the best he could get out of it. Ragnar stared back as he contemplated how far he could push back on this but realized this was the middle ground we could all settle on. I smiled at that, enjoying the fact I knew them both so well. And more importantly, I had my head back in the game. 


	114. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-04-803

Even though I had told Halfdan to come by early I was a bit surprised he showed up just after we finished breakfast. The way he'd been drinking last night I was sure he would show up a tad late, but he looked fresh as ever. He made no attempt to come in, choosing to remain standing in the drizzle. I wrapped myself in a cloak and went outside, closing the door behind me. Halfdan's hair seemed already drenched, his mohawk sticking to one side of his face.   
  
"Do you have a particular place in mind?" Since he wanted the talk to be private I was sure he wouldn't like it if I brought up a suggestion. Halfdan was a lot more careful than his brother, that much was clear.   
  
"I don't mind this weather, but I'm sure you'd like to sit somewhere dry. We'll go to one of our ships." We walked towards the beach in silence. Only when we boarded the ship and sat underneath a tarp did Halfdan speak.   
  
"What the fuck did you do to my brother?" I lowered the hood that had kept my hair and face dry. I’d kept in my fancy hairdo from last night, knowing Halfdan wouldn’t care less about a few stray hairs.   
  
"I gave him a comb, and told him it would be a mistake to make a move against Bjorn."   
  
"Harald seems convinced the comb is made of elven bone. How can that be?"   
  
"He only told you half of it. It's part of an animal that lives further away from us than we've ever traveled. It's softer than bone, and grows as a tusk. It's called ivory, but is known in these parts as elven bone."   
  
"I came across one of those animals, actually," he said with a smirk. I cocked my head, wondering where he could have found an elephant or a rhino. Maybe it was a mammoth skeleton, how amazing would that be?   
  
“How did it look?” I hadn’t expected him to pique my interest like this.   
  
“It was a horned whale, if you must know.” A horned whale… A narwhal? No way.   
  
“Did you see it up close? It’s actually a long tooth, not a horn, but man… I would love to see one of those someday.” Halfdan’s calm gave way to confusion. “They’re not that common here, they tend to stay north of Trondheim. For one to make it that far south… Was it hurt?”   
  
“It was dead. Some fishermen caught it in their nets. You… Know of these creatures?”   
  
“They’re magical,” I sighed. “They use their horn to find food and mates. What did you do with the remains?”   
  
“We ate it, of course.” I couldn’t contain a look of disgust. Whale meat wasn’t my thing, at all. I knew Vestfold depended on whaling, but I was raised believing that was wrong. “I kept some of the bones, it was too much to keep them all.” No doubt the horn was kept as a keepsake.   
  
“They’re not exactly small,” I conceded. “The horn was made from the same stuff, wasn’t it?”   
  
“It came from an animal, it’s not elven bone.” I got over my enthusiasm and sat up straight again.   
  
"I don’t know if the bones of elves have the same density, but I do know what it’s called. It's just a name."   
  
"Just like Ragnhild? You're not from around here, so I doubt that is your real name." He had done his research. For now speaking the truth seemed like the smart thing to do.   
  
"I took a new name when I came here, that much is true. I don't see how that's relevant though, as I left my old life behind. My name was part of that."   
  
"So you don't have a way to go back there," Halfdan said, more to himself than me. "How convenient no one knows where you're from or why you're here."   
  
"If you're wondering about that, I'm afraid I can't help you. All I know is that the gods sent me here to change the fate of the Viking."   
  
"And how do you plan on doing that?"   
  
"I don't know. I'm not sure what disaster will happen that I'll have to prevent. Or maybe I am to cause a disaster. I'll let you know when I find out." Despite my answers not being what he'd hoped, I saw Halfdan could tell I was speaking the truth. I had to remind myself you don't conquer part of Norway just on brawn alone. I had to assume this was a dangerous man, and very much responsible for Harald's recent successes.   
  
"Your answers are as vague as those of that Seer of yours."   
  
"Then maybe you should ask me the right questions." The Seer had said that to many people, including me. Halfdan scowled for a second, then calmed himself down.   
  
"Alright, I'll bite. Will my brother succeed?"   
  
"That depends on how you define success. He might be on his way to conquer Norway, but will that give him what he wants? He's after a woman, after all. Are you certain he'll win her heart if he becomes king of all of Norway? Or will he find another woman to be happy with and end his campaign? Or what if the woman chooses to be with him before he's done? There are many answers, all of which correct. He may succeed in many ways, as he can fail in many. I don't know which it will be." Halfdan shifted around in his seat, growing more irritated.   
  
"Will my brother become king of Norway?"   
  
"I think the real question is why you care so much. Don't you have any dreams of your own?" Halfdan's mood grew dark, almost as foreboding as his name. His pose didn’t change, but his eyes did.   
  
"I am content fighting with and for my brother." I leaned back, knowing he was full of shit.   
  
"So that's it. You just want to keep fighting. Even if your brother succeeds, you'd still want to keep fighting. You're here to ask me if you will reach Valhalla, or will wither away beside your brother when he's happily married."   
  
"I love my brother."   
  
"And I love Bjorn, but that doesn't mean I have to be at his side to fulfill my dreams. It's nice to help each other, but in the end we have decisions to make for ourselves. Bjorn will go to England because he wants to raid and fight. I'll stay here to take care of the twins." And together we would sail to the Mediterranean, when the time was right.   
  
"Love has nothing to do with it," Halfdan spat.   
  
"Love has everything to do with it. I love my family, and you love fighting. It motivates us to do what we do. I wake up early to take care of my babies, while you get up each day to slave away during training."   
  
"That's not the same,” he insisted.   
  
"Why do you say that?"   
  
"Because fighting is meant to kill and destroy. What you do is... just what women do." Sexist piece of shit. He noticed I wasn’t happy with his words. I had trouble keeping a straight face when it came to these matters, but I couldn’t deny he had a sharp eye for observation all the same.   
  
"You're too focused on the differences. You only see the world in black and white. It's either one extreme or the other."   
  
"And what if I do?"  
  
"I feel sorry for you." Halfdan's eyes widened a bit, not having expected such a reaction.   
  
"I don't need your pity. I didn’t ask for it."   
  
"And still you have it. What twisted thing happened to you when you were young? Did your father leave you? Or perhaps your mother? Did you get rejected by your first love?"   
  
"You don't know anything about me." His temper was clearly rising, and I was more than happy to keep pushing his buttons, if only to keep him away from mine.   
  
"I know you're hurting." Halfdan pulled out a knife and put it to my throat, he was upon me in a flash. "Was it really that bad?" He grunted, debating whether to kill me.   
  
"You're a fucking witch," he said in a low voice.   
  
"No, I'm not. I just know people. I know pain. I know how to make it better." My own hurt can help heal others, as the Seer had told me, and Halfdan struck me as the type that had grown into his name. Halfdan was one of the people the gods wanted me to help, even though I didn’t know why.   
  
"What would a princess like you know about pain?" I scoffed at that, but stopped as I felt the bite of the knife.   
  
"You're so naive. I won't claim to have had it worse than you growing up, but believe me when I say I've seen more darkness in this world than others. It took me a long time to find the light again, and all I am doing now is offering you a torch to help you get yourself out of your darkness. I think your name is more than just a nickname, isn't it? They may call you Halfdan the Black, but no one ever thought to think it relates to your inner demons as much as you yourself can become a demon on the battlefield." He lowered his blade. "You hurt others to stop feeling hurt yourself. You're terrified of that darkness inside of you."   
  
"How do you know?" he asked as he sat down again.   
  
"I have those demons as well. They're still inside of me, but I've managed to keep them down for a while now. I just used to hurt myself instead of others. If you think you're all alone, you're mistaken."   
  
"So this is what you did to my brother. You told him a secret he's been keeping, denying it even existed, and told him there was hope. You know how to read people, but you’re not the only one with that skill."   
  
"If that’s what you want to think..." Halfdan got up and started rummaging around the chests on deck. I noticed the drizzle had swelled to a full-blown rain, pattering down the tarp.   
  
"How did you know about the demons?" Halfdan asked as he handed me a horn. It was filled with ale. I didn't really feel like drinking before noon, especially after already having had two cups last night, but I didn't want to be impolite now that I'd made such progress.   
  
"It takes one to know one. You just have this look in your eyes, I guess. It reminds me of myself."   
  
"And how would a princess like you know of demons like mine?"   
  
"I wasn't always a princess. Before I got here I was tormented. When I came here I became a tormented slave." I took a careful sip of ale, and as I swallowed the ship was rocked by the upcoming storm. Damn sea sickness.   
  
"How did you stop them?" he asked.   
  
"I realized they once helped me survive, but then I chose to live and they became redundant. They fought to stay, but I got to see how much they were now hurting me, instead. I can help you with that, if you want."   
  
"That's assuming I want your help, and want to rid myself of those demons."   
  
"They may give you strength now, but they will drain you eventually. In the end, they will find you and get you, drag you down and make you hate yourself. To the point you don't recognize yourself anymore. You'll find no joy in fighting anymore, or helping your brother. I've seen it happen many times before." Not just in therapy, but on my doorstep as well. Most people just needed to feel heard, but others needed more. They needed a sense of direction, a goal to work towards to give meaning to their lives.   
  
"How long do I have left?" He made it sound very dramatic, as if somewhere an hourglass was emptying until the moment he couldn't take it anymore.   
  
"That's up to you. How good are you at keeping them at bay? How many are there? What do they whisper right before you decide on anything big?" Halfdan took a moment, as if finding the right words.   
  
"They're whispering right now. They tell me to cut your throat." I wanted to lean back, but I held firm. This was not the time to be worried. If he meant to kill me, he already had plenty of chances for that, and he knew it would mean his own death as well. Harald wouldn’t get very far, either.   
  
"That's because I'm posing a threat to their existence. How loud are they?"   
  
"I can still ignore them. But they have been getting louder over the years. Could they... What if they turn me against my brother?"   
  
"Then you've let them come too far. If that ever happens, you'll be in a world of pain."   
  
"How can I fight them?"   
  
"You won't like it. You'll have to let them in." He frowned, looking surprised and intrigued at the same time.   
  
"What? You just told me to fight them."   
  
"Yes, and you will. Think of it like this. Right now you have a shield wall protecting you from them. You can't fight them off all by yourself. But if you know how to, you can let them through one by one and deal with them." I was hoping the fighting analogy would make sense to him. It always did wonders for Bjorn.   
  
"And you know how to?"   
  
"I've had to do it for myself, but my demons are not yours. It will be different, but I'm willing to help you, if you want to."   
  
"Why would you? I mean to conquer Kattegat. Why help the enemy?"   
  
"Because I hate it when someone suffers. Didn't you hear what Bjorn said last night?" Halfdan sighed.   
  
"You truly are a mystery. How would this even work?" I gave him a kind smile, making him lean back. “I didn’t say I would go along with it, I just want to know more.”   
  
"The best way to tell you how it works is to show you. It's a weird way of fighting, but I can promise you, it'll work. You have to trust me as well as yourself, at least enough to tell me the truth. Otherwise you'll just make a fool of us both. Can you do that?" He nodded. "Good. Then please, tell me what the demons whisper." His fierce opposition died down to reluctance. “You told me that one of them whispers that you should kill me? What do the others say?”   
  
Halfdan started telling me what the voices in his head told him. Most of it were violent thoughts and urges. He wanted to kill something. He wanted to rape me. He wanted to see blood raining down from the sky. I just listened, careful not to change my facial expression. I showed no judgement or condemnation.   
  
Some of the whispers he told me I could recognize, those were intrusive thoughts I had myself as well, or at least at one point. Others he told me about with a smile, and his shtick of using humor or laughing off something to cover up pain was something I knew all too well. By the time he was done talking, he'd gone through two horns of the bitter ale.   
  
"Wow, that's a lot to take in," I said, trying to get everything straight in my head. I was pretty sure some things he said were just to see if I'd react, and weren't really true. Others told me he should be in professional therapy. For a lack of real therapists, I would have to do, at least until I could get off the ship and back to safety. I needed to think on what he had said. "Those are some powerful demons, indeed. Have you ever told anyone about them?"   
  
"My brothers knows they exist. We never talk about it, but he knows."   
  
"How does it feel, having told someone after all these years?" Halfdan just shrugged.   
  
"Okay, I guess. I'm not really seeing the point of it, but I'll play along." He was pushing down his emotions, just like I had often done. Not feeling was easier than dealing with the storm inside.   
  
"Let's start with the one telling you to kill something. When did he start whispering? Can you remember?"   
  
"I've always had that one. It got stronger after I first went raiding."   
  
"Did anything in particular happen during that raid? A good friend you lost?"   
  
"Our father died, making Harald earl at fourteen. I was twelve."   
  
"Did you see it happen?"   
  
"I did. His head was bashed in with a shield." I kept my heart from going out to him. I didn’t want to bond to someone like him, an enemy of the kingdom. I would need to talk to Bjorn about this somewhere today. Forcing my voice to keep sounding strong, I pressed on. Showing him compassion would only make Halfdan shut down again, and that could be dangerous.   
  
"Didn't he have one to protect himself?"   
  
"He'd given it to me as mine had splintered." I didn't want to connect the dots for him, Halfdan needed to do that himself. I could just guide him towards the answer.   
  
"How did that make you feel? Seeing your father die?"   
  
"I was sad to lose my father. He was shit at it, but still, he was my father." I couldn’t understand that sentiment, no matter how hard I tried.   
  
"Did you feel anything else? Try to think back to the moment you saw him die. When you realized you had his shield in your hands." Halfdan started to frown, he narrowed his eyes, then relaxed. For a moment I thought he'd get angry again, but his face turned pensive.   
  
"I see what you're doing. You think that's the moment that demon got stronger." I nodded. "This won't work. I don't want to talk about it."   
  
"That's your choice. I could go back to my children now, or I could try and help you weaken that demon. It's up to you."   
  
"I don't trust you. Why don't you tell me about yours?" Him not breaking it off was a good thing, I thought.   
  
"Fair enough. I have plenty still left. There's a demon that whispers to me that everything I do is wrong and stupid. Another one is convinced I don't deserve a man like Bjorn, and should leave him before he finds that out for himself. A third tells me I will never be able to be the queen Kattegat needs." Halfdan seemed surprised at the ease with which I told him of them. I hadn't seen them as demons, but as an echo of my father's voice still pounding at me from time to time. They barely whispered anymore, but every time I thought to be rid of them they would catch me in a moment of weakness.   
  
"Those don't hurt anyone but yourself. It's not the same."   
  
"You direct your anger towards others. I direct it towards myself. The demons want the same thing, but they go about it differently."   
  
"How do you keep them away?" I had to smile at his question, this was something I knew how to talk about.   
  
"I have this phrase I keep repeating in my head, whenever someone threatens me. It's become exceptionally useful, with all the blades that have been put to my throat since I got here." Halfdan grunted as he realized just why I hadn't reacted to his threat. "There's nothing they can do that I've not already done to myself."   
  
"You haven't killed yourself. Don't lie to me."   
  
"I haven't lied to you. I managed to kill myself once, but I was brought back to life by my brother."   
  
"That's not possible. You're either dead, or you're alive. There is no in between."   
  
"My heart stopped, and he was a trained healer. He managed to restart my heart the same way I was able to save Ubbe's life once. I'm from a different country, and we know many things you don't about healing people." He knew that I knew things. I could see him calculating how likely this was to be true. I’d need to be more careful about what I told the traders in return. Halfdan was the first one that showed me that he knew about me as well, and I didn’t like the advantage it gave him. He forced me to share more than I liked to win his trust.   
  
"Like how to fight demons?" he asked.   
  
"Exactly."   
  
"That doesn't work for me, though." He hadn't even tried.   
  
"What do you tell yourself to keep them away? What prevents you from killing me right now?"   
  
"The fact I'd be in a world of trouble." That was too negative to work. Halfdan needed some kind of mantra to help him through rough times.   
  
"And if you try and focus on something positive? If you wouldn't get in trouble, could you still find a reason to not kill me?" He had to think about that for a while.   
  
"Not really."   
  
"Is there something else that might take the urge away? Could it prevent you from achieving your dream? Would it take away something you long for?" His eyes narrowed. "You don't have to tell me out loud, as long as you have it clear in your mind. Whenever that demon whispers to you, think about that. I find it helps me if I close my eyes and concentrate on it." Halfdan sighed and closed his eyes, his expression going everywhere.   
  
"It's not strong enough," he muttered.   
  
"You have to practice, it'll get easier in time. I used to scream back to the demons before thinking of what helped me."   
  
"What did you scream?"   
  
"Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me. Over and over and over, until the demon's voice was almost gone. You can try that one, if you like." He closed his eyes again and gave it another try. I took the opportunity to frown a bit. I was trying to give a therapy session to a man known for killing and raping in abundance. Aside from knowing how it was to receive treatment, I'd never done anything to think I was capable of dealing with anything of the sort.   
  
It was one thing to tell the blacksmith's wife how to deal with him cheating on her, but telling a very dangerous man how to deal with his anger and rage... I straightened my face again as I saw Halfdan frown as well. Bjorn would kill me if he heard in how much danger I was, and it wasn’t even noon.   
  
"Louder. Really stick it to them," I encouraged him.   
  
"Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me." Not what I had in mind, but sure. I went with it.   
  
"What's that? Can't hear you."   
  
"Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me." He repeated it over and over and over, sounding stronger each time. Anyone who heard him must have thought he'd cracked. All of a sudden he stopped, keeping his eyes closed. When he opened them and looked at me, I couldn't get a read of what was going on inside him.   
  
"Huh." He let his eyes wander around the ship, as if he wasn’t sure of what had just happened.   
  
"Did it go better this time?" I asked.   
  
"A bit. I never thought this would work at all."   
  
"Sometimes all we need is a little push in the right direction. Keep at it, and it'll get better. The real work is trying to make your dream come true. That's the best cure. But until then, this should help with the worst of it."   
  
"I still think you're a witch."   
  
"That's okay. As long as you won't hurt me, I'll be fine."   
  
"And what if I kill Bjorn?" Was this his demons returning, or was this lashing out to keep me at a distance? I couldn’t get a read on him, how I had affected him. Honesty was my best choice.   
  
"You would tear away a part of who I am, and that would very much hurt me. So please don't." He rubbed his eyes with a hand, ending in him scratching his neck.   
  
"Don't tell anyone. About what I told you."   
  
"As far as I’m concerned this was you visiting me for help. I never tell what happens when I speak with someone in confidence. I told you a fair number of private things as well. We'll have to trust each other." He nodded in agreement. I handed back the horn, still half full, and got up. As I got off the ship, Halfdan cleared his throat.   
  
"Thank you," he said, then started rummaging around again.   
  
"You're welcome." I went back home through the pouring rain, taking deep breaths all the way to the front door. 


	115. Bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 09-05-803

"Hi Sigurd," I said as the toddler waved at me from across the hall. He was sitting in his mother's lap, which was a pleasant surprise.  
  
"Oh, Ragnhild!" Aslaug said as she waved me over. "You have to hear this! A wanderer came by and he can play the strangest tunes!" I walked up to her, curious to find out what kind of wanderer it was. I had met a few of them, and most just told stories that were not that well known, or stuck to the favorites. He still wore his hood, and was facing away from me.   
  
"What kind of instrument does he play?" I asked.   
  
"I couldn't describe it if I tried. Maybe it's a lute of some sort, but I'm not sure. I only saw one many years ago, back in Gotaland." New instruments were rare, so now I was doubly curious. "Anyway, whatever it's called, it's amazing. It's almost as if he has five people underneath that cloak assisting him." The man was fidgeting with a string. It looked a bit like a guitar to me, mixed with a lute.  
  
"Really?" I sat down and signaled for the servants to get me some water. This would be interesting. The folk music was kind of tiring after a while. "What is your name?" The man still hadn't moved much, or spoken. "No reason to be shy," I said. I'd have given him a smile, but he couldn't see it anyway. As he slowly lowered his cloak, the first thing I noticed was his eyes. I felt my heart skip a beat, and I felt the blood drain away from my face. He looked so familiar... But it couldn't be.  
  
"Hello, Ragnhild," he spoke. His voice was still the same. "My name is Harbard." I suddenly remembered to breathe and took in a sharp breath. I blinked a few times, then shut my mouth. My teeth clenched, not wanting my jaw to drop again.  
  
"Do you know this man?" Aslaug asked. I just nodded. Tears filled my eyes, and I put a hand in front of my mouth. I felt sick to my stomach. "Are you okay? You seem so pale all of a sudden." My breathing was shallow by now, and panic was taking root inside me. All of a sudden, the face of my brother was right in front of me.   
  
"Breathe," he told me in Dutch. "It's only me." I took in a few deep breaths and felt the panic subside.   
  
"What are you doing here?" I asked. "How - why..." My instincts subsided, and my mind turned on again. "It's so weird," I said aloud. "Harbard reminds me so much of somebody that I used to know from back home... I'm sorry, I got so confused for a bit." The servant arrived with a horn and I drank deep. A shiver ran down my spine. "I'm so sorry Harbard, what must you think of me?" Aslaug seemed less than convinced with my recovery but didn't question it.   
  
"Everyone has ghosts from their past haunting them, princess. There is no need to apologize."  
  
"Perhaps a song will soothe our poor Ragnhild," Aslaug said. I had no doubt my brother would be able to play some strange songs on his make-shift guitar. He dove right into the intro of Stairway to Heaven. After all these years the soft, vulnerable chords cut through my heart like a sword. I closed my eyes and swayed to the melody in an effort to comfort myself. Sigurd’s tiny hand patting on mine made me smile a bit, he wasn’t used to seeing me this emotional.   
  
Before the song truly started and he would have to sing of Christian afterlife, my brother switched to a different one, bringing back even more memories. Aslaug put an arm around me, noticing how emotional I'd gotten. I leaned into her, finally letting my tears flow. My brother was here. My twin brother. How had he managed to come here as well? What was he doing here? And why had he called himself Harbard? I knew Jozef was a bad idea to go by here, just as Maria had been for me. But Harbard... That was the same name of the wanderer who had seduced Aslaug. She didn't seem to know him, though. Even now she cuddled with Sigurd and stroked over his hair, while the boy smiled as if he was given a great honor.  
  
"Thank you, Harbard," Aslaug finally said. The last notes drifted off in the air as my brother put down his guitar. It had been very well made, and must have cost him a lot of money. He'd been doing well for himself. "You have moved poor Ragnhild to tears. I never knew music could to that to her."  
  
"Ragnhild seems to be the kind of woman that draws strength from her emotions," my brother said. "She is a most peculiar woman." I looked up at him. He was playing Aslaug for a fool, but he didn't know what I knew. Aslaug had been responsible for bringing me here, and in doing so, she knew I was not from this time. As soon as we'd be private, I would tell her who he was. I needed Aslaug to know who my brother was. I couldn't deal with this by myself, and the men had only just left to go raiding.  
  
"You already seem to know me so well." He had to be careful with what he said. If he told about anything that wouldn't match up with my story he could mean trouble for me. "How do you know the music to move me so?"  
  
"I just know," he responded with a lazy smile. Jozef had gone through the same troubles as me, and had come to a similar standard response. "The gods whisper in my ears." Scratch that, my brother had used it to his advantage. Having studied in Denmark for a few years, he must have been better versed in the pagan mythology than me, and have had an easier time learning the language. When he had come here, his first thoughts had been about survival.   
  
Ivar started crying in the background, and Aslaug immediately got up. Jozef wanted to follow, but I held him back.   
  
"We need to talk," I whispered.   
  
"Later. I'll find you." And off he was, disappearing into the back after Aslaug. What was Jozef playing at? We needed to talk to each other, asap.   
  
"Auntie?" I turned around and saw Sigurd standing next to me, looking up with his intriguing eyes.   
  
"What is it, Sigurd?"  
  
"Why is that man back?" Back? He'd been here before? Of course, the name... This was the Harbard that had visited when I was in Paris. He and Aslaug had tried to fool me into thinking he hadn't been here before. Were they really that thick?  
  
"He wants to see how Ivar's doing," I said as I bent down to pick up Sigurd. "He helped Ivar with his pains last time, and now he wants to make sure if what he did still works." Ivar had been getting worse, but if Jozef was back here he might know a few things to stave off the pain again.   
  
"I don't like him," he said with a frown. "He always takes mother away. She comes back smelling like fish."  
  
"I'm sure she'll be around more this time. And if she's not, you can always come to me for a visit. You know I love it when you drop by." My words didn't completely satisfy the boy, which wasn't that strange. Sigurd wanted to be taken care of by his mother, like his brothers. Instead, he had to settle for the next best thing, which was his 'auntie', as the boys had started calling me since the wedding.   
  
"When will they be back?"  
  
"They only left two weeks ago. It'll be some time before they return." This only made Sigurd sadder. My heart was breaking for the poor boy. "I know what'll make you feel better," I told him. With the boy still on my hip I walked outside and went straight for the goat pen. The goats always did wonders for my mood, and Sigurd could use the distraction. "Hi there, Happy!" I went inside and put down Sigurd. Happy started licking Sigurd's face, which made him giggle.   
  
"Bad goat!" he said as he laughed. I picked up some lost vegetable leaves for Sigurd to feed to him, but Happy saw an opening and took it. He jumped on top of me, almost making me fall over. Sigurd seemed to enjoy it, though, so I let it happen.   
  
"You're getting heavy, my friend," I said as I gave Sigurd the cabbage leaves to feed to Happy.   
  
"That's because you spoil him," Sigurd told me. "You always spoil them."  
  
"I seem to recall a few times I spoiled you as well, little Sigurd."  
  
"But I'm not a goat," he said with an air of indignation. Happy jumped off me and started jumping around, thrashing his horns around. Relieved I could stand up again, I saw Sigurd had already moved to Floki to start petting him. It was amazing to see how well he responded to being distracted from his mother, and he loved the goats. Maybe I should talk to Aslaug about having him take care of one, so he could bond with at least anything else that was alive.   
  
From the corner of my eye, I saw Jozef approaching. Taking him in, I saw his clothes were shabby and patched, his hair had grown down to his shoulders. The guitar was slung behind his back with a leather strap. I still couldn’t believe he was real. "Still playing in the dirt?" he asked me. I didn't know how to respond. I still wasn't sure if this was really my brother, wondering how he'd ever gotten here.   
  
"How did you get here?" I asked in Dutch. "When?"  
  
"On Valisblot three years ago. I don't know how or why," he replied, also in Dutch.   
  
"How did you survive?"  
  
"Pretty much the same way you did, I imagine. Vessel of Freyja, honestly..." He shook his head in admiration.   
  
"And what about you, Harbard? You've been here before, haven't you? You were there when the boys nearly drowned." Nothing gave away he had tried to hide that from me. With all his gambling he must have developed a convincing poker face. "I was." His expression turned grave. "I saw that woman diving in after them and ran towards her. By the time I got there she was trying to get the eldest up to the surface, and I pulled him out. I took off most of his wet clothes and wrapped him in my cloak. He was so cold... The other one had lost consciousness, I had to get the water out of his lungs first or he would've died. When he coughed it up I saw the woman had already died. I couldn't take all three of them back to the village at the same time. When I came back here with the boys I didn't know what to say. They looked pale as ghosts and barely talked. I had to get out of town, but her face still haunts me..."   
  
"Her name was Siggy. She took care of me when I first got here. I named my daughter after her."  
  
"You - you have a daughter?" Jozef's eyes went wide.   
  
"Twins. Siggy and Thormund." With the fence still between us, Jozef pulled me into a tight embrace.   
  
"Maria," he whispered. "I'm so happy for you." I hugged him back, happy to feel someone in my arms that I knew for longer than three years. Someone I'd known for all of my life and even before that. It really was him, I wasn't alone anymore.   
  
"Auntie..." I let go of my brother and saw Sigurd pulling on my skirts. He looked very upset. "I want to go back inside." I shot an apologetic look to my twin and sank down to look Sigurd in the eye.   
  
"You don't like me hugging Harbard, do you?" The boy looked at his feet and shook his head. "I have some things to talk about with him, that are really important. But I promise you, after that I'll tell you a story, alright? A very long one. I love you, Sigurd, and me talking to that man won't ever change that." He wrapped his arms around me and held on tight. I could feel his pain. His brothers and father had left him behind, his mother spent all her time with his younger brother... No one was there for him now that he needed to be comforted. During my childhood I had often felt abandoned as well, but at least I always had Jozef to talk to. Sigurd only had me.   
  
"I'll make sure you'll have her back before dinner," Jozef said. Sigurd only held onto me tighter.   
  
"I love you," I whispered in his ear. "I'll never leave you. You know that, right?" I felt his head nodding against my neck. He let go a bit and looked into my eyes. With the tip of my sleeve, I wiped away his tears.   
  
"I want to stay with you," he said softly. I glanced up at Jozef for a second, who nodded.   
  
"Then let's go." I wanted to get upright, but Sigurd held out his arms to me. He wanted to be carried. I relented and picked him up. All he wanted was to feel someone close to him, he was starved for some affection. Together with Jozef, we walked back to my house, where Idu was still busy doing laundry.   
  
"You have a slave?" Jozef asked with a disappointed expression.   
  
"Gods, no. Idu belongs to Aslaug, she just helps me out with some chores now that Bjorn is gone. In exchange I get to spend more time with Sigurd, isn't that a great deal for me?" I pecked Sigurd on the cheek, and he smiled a bit.   
  
"Okay... If you say so."  
  
"What, you don't agree? I need help around here, it's not like I have a washing machine and a dishwasher." I had to use Dutch words in that sentence, which felt weird. "I'm doing as much as I can on my own."  
  
"I'm not judging you, I'm just surprised." We sat down at the table, Sigurd climbing on my lap with his face turned to watch Idu work. He didn't even want to look at my brother. "So tell me, what have you been up to?" I didn't want Idu or Sigurd to know how I knew this Harbard, so I switched to Dutch. I gave him a quick recap of my life here so far, including I went to Paris and that I'd just married Bjorn.   
  
"Wow, that sounds a lot more interesting than me. I just spent my time wandering, telling stories. People are very happy to hear new stories, even if they haven't happened yet. Anyway, I started out in Denmark, so I spent most of my time there so far. It was great to see all those familiar places look so different. I came this way when I heard about what I now find out is your father-in-law."  
  
"Have you ever met another wanderer?" I asked.   
  
"No, why do you ask?"  
  
"I just wondered if you were able to copy off someone or went with your gut." The wanderer that had joined us to Paris would have some choice words about my brother being here with me now.  
  
"I read a lot about the life here when I - we were still... then?" I nodded in understanding. Terminology was quite difficult when talking about the future we had been in. "And I have to say, it's amazing to actually see it all. I miss a lot of things, like plumbing and electricity, but I've gotten quite used to everything now. It's just so much purer to live here. And I can still do what I love. I help people with difficult health problems." That sounded like he had left his old ways behind, the same as I had. It helped that there weren’t any drugs around here, and high-stakes gambling wasn’t as common.  
  
"So that's how you were able to take Ivar's pain away." Sigurd looked up at the mention of his brother. I stroked his hair, and he went back to studying Idu.  
  
"He's a lucky kid. It could've been much worse. Other variants of the disease would have meant he'd died after ten days at most. Once I saw his eyes I knew what to do."  
  
"I'm thankful for that. He was constantly in pain, it was horrible to have to stand by and watch him suffer."  
  
"That queen was pretty grateful as well," my brother said with a crooked smile.   
  
"I don't doubt that. You should've been here to see the aftermath. If Ragnar were to find out you came back..."  
  
"He'd kill me. I know when to appear and when to go. He wouldn't be the first one to want to kill me for sleeping with his wife."  
  
"Brother... You really have to be careful with that. These people are quick to hate, and their hatred runs deep."  
  
"Excuse me, Ragnhild?" I looked up at Idu. "I'm done with the laundry. Is there anything else I can help you with?"  
  
"Thank you, Idu. That's all for today. Feel free to take some time before you head back to Aslaug. You've been a great help." She smiled and bowed a little, then took her leave.   
  
"She seems happy to help you," Jozef noted.   
  
"I got my hands on some rice once, that was enough to make her like me."  
  
"Oh, I'd kill for some rice... Or potatoes for that matter, or anything else than the bland food here. But I see you have run into the same things. That's quite a herb collection you've managed to gather." Our conversation turned to the things we missed, and from there we went back to shared memories from back home. Only when Thormund started fussing did I get up.   
  
"So that's your little wildling son?" Jozef had gotten up as well and took Thormund into his arms. "I never thought I'd be an uncle one day. I knew you lived here, Aslaug and Siggy told me how happy you were here. I almost couldn't believe my ears. It's great to see for myself how well you've been doing."  
  
"Bjorn has been wonderful to me. It took quite a while before I trusted him, I haven't made it easy for him. This is Siggy, by the way."  
  
"You said before you named her after that woman. Why?"  
  
"Because she was like a sister to me, as well as a mother. We never found her body." It still hurt. Over the moons I had come to grieve her properly, and before they left Ragnar had taken me up to see Athelstan’s grave. In my heart it felt like both of them were off raiding for longer than usual, and I knew that I might see Siggy again in Helheim. At least she was with her children now. As for Athelstan… For his sake, I hoped Heaven was a real place.  
  
"That doesn't surprise me. Fish will eat anything that comes their way," Jozef said.  
  
"Even clothing and bones?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.   
  
"I don't know about the bones, but she had gone under naked. After I brought back the boys I went back there and burned her clothes. I didn’t know how to explain how they'd gotten there and how I had to choose between the boys and her. I panicked. I took my leave soon after."  
  
"Aslaug was a mess when I got back from Paris. The boys were neglected, except for Ivar. Siggy's daughter died as well, since no one was minding her."  
  
"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry to hear that. I thought..."  
  
"You had done enough damage. I can see why you'd leave, though it turned out to be a mistake."  
  
"Aslaug was very curt with me when I left. I think she somehow held me responsible for what happened."  
  
"Then why did you come back here?" I looked up from my children and saw Jozef held a determined look in his eyes.  
  
"Because I wanted to see you. After hearing the others talk about you I just had to know if it was really you."  
  
"It was stupid of you to come back here, but I'm glad you did. I have to bring Sigurd home for dinner, will you stay here and watch the twins for me? I'll make us something with flavor."  
  
"Of course, sis."  
  
"Sigurd, come on. It's time to get back for dinner. I'll take you home." It was strange to speak Norse again after spending an afternoon talking in Dutch. It felt like my tongue had gone numb.  
  
"Will he be there?" Sigurd asked.   
  
"No, he'll stay with me for dinner. It'll be just you, Ivar and your mother." He didn't like Harbard staying with me, but he looked forward to spending some time with his mother at the same time. He nodded his head and grabbed hold of my hand, as if to stake a claim before my brother.   
  
When we went through the doors of the hall, Sigurd ran up to his mother and clutched her skirts.   
  
"Where's Harbard?" she asked me. Oh, Aslaug, not in front of Sigurd, not right after he just got back from spending so much time with that man.   
  
"I invited him over for dinner, it seems we have a lot to talk about. Sigurd's looking forward to spending some time with you."  
  
"Really now? You're going to have dinner with Harbard?" I moved to stand in front of her, giving her a stern look. I didn't need any thinly veiled jealousy.   
  
"He is my brother," I whispered. "He came back here the same time I did. Yes, we have a lot to talk about." Aslaug took a deep breath at that, visibly taken aback.   
  
"What? But how?"  
  
"We need to talk about that, as well. And soon, before anyone finds out. We have to be united on what to do."  
  
"You don't seriously mean you'd contemplate harming him?"  
  
"I don't, but we need to come up with a plausible story. What if Ragnar comes back early? Or what if someone finds out he's from the same place as me?" Aslaug narrowed her eyes. "I just want to make sure we aren't caught off guard. I'll know more when I've talked to him."  
  
"Auntie, do you have to leave?" Sigurd pleaded. With Aslaug ignoring him again, he turned to me.   
  
"I do, Sigurd. We spent the entire afternoon together. I have to spend time with the twins as well, you know that."  
  
"But you spent all your time talking to Harbard..."  
  
"Don't worry," Aslaug said. "I'll tell you a lovely story." Sigurd seemed conflicted. I put my hand on his head.   
  
"I know you're worried, but you don't have to be. I'll spend plenty of time with you." I took my leave, not wanting to leave my brother alone for too long. I was sure I'd find him snooping around, but instead, he was playing a children's song for the twins. His voice was soft and gentle. Only when he was done did he look around to see me standing by the door. His fingers started playing a song I vaguely remembered.   
  
"So, what's for dinner, sis?"  
  
"I was thinking of pasta."  
  
"Oh, god yes. I'm getting so sick and tired of bread all the time, and stew." I didn't fail to notice my brother had let his guard down. As I set to work on dinner he kept trying to coax me into singing along with the songs. He knew what I liked to hear and was most likely to make me join in, but I held firm.   
  
"It's not working," I told him after a very soulful rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.   
  
"Oh come on, you used to love to sing along! I know I just have to find the right one. I'll make you dance before the night is out."  
  
"I haven't danced in a very long time, and I only sing when no one but Bjorn can hear it."  
  
"Well, no one can hear you now, can they?" I wanted to be annoyed at him, but it was great to have him around again.   
  
"These walls are rather thin. I don't need another reason to have a spotlight shining in my face all the time. I swear, every time I fart someone finds a way to praise the gods for it." Jozef fumbled his chords and put down his guitar.  
  
"Don't you enjoy it? I thought you'd love to be the center of attention for once. You always hid away from everyone since you hit puberty."  
  
"I hate it. I'm not used to being seen, and having people watch me makes me nervous,” I said as I got the last sticky scraps of dough to join in on the ball in my hands. Jozef still knew how to get on my nerves.  
  
"That doesn't make sense, sis. Why would you not want people to notice you? You’re an amazing woman."  
  
"It made sense to all those therapists I went to see."  
  
"Exactly, and they didn't do shit for you. If they did, I wouldn't have found you choking on your own vomit."   
  
"That was after Tom died, and you know it. That piece of shit got what he deserved." I didn't like thinking back to that phase of my life.  
  
"Just saying, those people did almost as great a number on you as that creep did. And I still don't see why you'd like him in the first place."  
  
"He made me feel less alone. He was there for me." I threw the dough against the table, harder than I had to.   
  
"He treated you worse than I've seen slaves treated here." An angry shiver went through my body. Jozef looked like he was puzzling, trying to make sense of me. All it did was make me furious.  
  
"And he was the only one who could give me what I needed!" Jozef kept his calm, much to my dismay.  
  
"Another abusive asshole to control everything you do? Is there something I should know about Bjorn?" I stood up, fuming with rage.   
  
"You shut your fucking face, right now! You have no idea what kind of man Bjorn is, and you have no idea how bad of a place I was in when I met Tom. I hated you for saving my life back then, and I hate you now for bringing it up!" Jozef backed down, not used to me screaming that forcefully about anything. "When I think back to how I was back then I hardly recognize myself. I'm ashamed of what happened, and that I didn't fight it. At the same time I still fully understand why I did what I did. I tell myself I'm past all that, but I'm obviously not."   
  
"I - I'm sorry. I didn't know it was still such a big deal to you. I'll leave you alone for a bit, I've got some thinking to do myself."  
  
"Don't you dare go near Sigurd right now. He needs to spend time with his mother without you there." I scooped up the dough and put it in a wet cloth, letting it rest for a bit.  
  
"I'll just head to the market, if that's okay. Again, I'm so sorry." I busied myself with gathering some vegetables to cut up for the sauce, ignoring my twin. As soon as I heard the door fall shut, I sat down at the table and started crying. I wanted to lay down my head and get everything out, allowing myself to feel everything, but I couldn't. Siggy started to join in, and no doubt her brother would follow along shortly.   
  
I got up and held Siggy close to my chest, all the while sobbing heavily. I had to take care of her, but I also needed to take care of myself. If Bjorn were here, he'd know what to do. It all would have worked out if my brother hadn't come back while he was away, but it seemed the gods had different plans.   
  
I felt so hopeless. I was unable to take care of my children as they needed me, and I could only think of lying in bed and pulling the covers over my head. Bjorn had been right, of course. We'd need to get some decent help for when he was gone. Idu was wonderful to have around for the heavy lifting, but I'd rather go for a walk after dinner than have to clean up. I would love to have some more time to read, but I had to constantly get up to take care of the twins. Still, to have someone's life in my hands just for a little comfort... At least that I agreed on with Jozef. Owning a slave wasn't just about ethical issues, it was about being able to look myself in the mirror and being able to sleep at night.   
  
"Oh, Siggy... If only your father were here. I need him to tell me everything's going to be alright." My sobbing died down a bit, and so did hers. Walking around and rocking her helped both of us. "You're so much more needy than your brother lately. But that's okay, my little sweet pea. I love you both so much. Even though you drive me crazy sometimes, I'll always love you." I put her back in the crib next to her brother, and held both their hands for a bit.   
  
Thormund immediately clutched my finger. His grip had become stronger. He let out a terrible yawn for a boy so small, and blinked a few times like I did when I was confused. Already I could see so much of myself in him, and of Bjorn. I had no idea where his brown hair came from, though, as Bjorn and I both had blond families. Then again, Rollo had dark hair as well. The blue eyes were ours, and I could already see his ears would flap out a little, just like Bjorn's.   
  
Siggy was an impatient little imp, quick to smile and open up to others. She had inherited our blond hair, but had green eyes, which were also a mystery to me. Bjorn was responsible for her curiosity, no doubt.   
  
"Ragnhild?" I wiped away the remaining tears from my face and turned around to face my brother.   
  
"How was the market?" I asked.   
  
"I found the most peculiar item. I thought it'd go well with the rest of your collection." He held out a brooch with a lion on it. "I figured you still missed something from the Netherlands, I hope this will do." He had been snooping around, as I'd suspected before, but he'd missed a part of my stuff. There was still a tiny windmill hidden behind a few other things.   
  
"Thank you, Jozef. You shouldn't have, but I appreciate it all the same." I took it in my hands and looked it over. It looked like burnished bronze. It was ugly as hell, but that didn't matter to me. I put it among the other treasures from around the world and hugged him. "You still know how to roll pasta?" I asked.   
  
"You'd trust that to me? I seem to recall a time where you were disappointed because the strands were too thick."  
  
"All the more reason for you to really try to get them thin this time," I said with a smile. We finished cooking together and talked of small things, getting the air cleared before having to dive into deeper discussions again. I was dying to find out what he thought about the time traveling paradoxes I had been racking my brain over ever since Paris.


	116. Home Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-05-803

Jozef had stayed over in the hall as was customary for lone guests, but most of the day time we spent over at my place catching up. He went on a lot of walks, always bringing his guitar with him, and it was clear for all to see that most of the women in town had a little crush on them. If I didn’t overhear them gossiping in the market, they would come to me to ask me all kinds of questions about him. After a week he had already turned into a legend.  
  
When I confronted him about it, he shrugged.  
  
“Both of us have this natural attraction to people of the opposite sex,” he said. “You can’t deny the looks you get from the merchants, even though you’re married. We’re exotic, and shiny, and new.” He sloshed around his ale, then finished his mug.  
  
“I’m hardly new in town, and even if what you say is true it doesn’t mean you can sleep around whenever you like.” Jozef scoffed at my accusation.  
  
“I haven’t slept with anyone since I got back, sis. You’re overreacting. You told me to lay low, and I did. I can’t help it if these women are interested in me.” I didn’t believe a word he said, but I didn’t press the issue, instead eating the fish on my plate. Jozef’s cooking was atrocious, but he had done his best. At least it wasn’t still half raw.  
  
“I’ve been meaning to ask, have you been in touch with mom before we got here?” Jozef stopped wolfing down his plate and gave me a curious glance. “I haven’t spoken to her since I left home.”  
  
“She’s doing well. Assuming she’s still not born, that is. I spoke to her half a year before, she took up tennis again. Her knee still hurts, but she’s pacing herself.”  
  
“Good for her,” I said, despite my hope he would have mentioned something else. If she had finally seen through our father’s deceit, I might just be able to start forgiving her. I needed closure.  
  
“Michael’s a different story, though.” I put down my cutlery. “He’s been in touch with me, asking about you. He’s worried.” Without a word I got up and threw the rest of my food in the bin.  
  
“Jozef. I don’t want to talk about dad.” Resting my hands on the kitchen counter I did my best to force down the anger I felt rising.  
  
“He’s a part of our lives. He cared more about you than mom ever did.” The fish must have been raw all along, my stomach was starting to protest.  
  
“He wasn’t a father,” I said, barely hearing my own voice. “He was scum, and he hurt me in ways I still think are impossible.”  
  
“Stop being such a masochist. It was a different time, and he really did love you. He made mistakes, like every parent does.” As I turned around I saw he was serious. He thought I should leave it in the past, or the future, or wherever Michael was now.  
  
“Did you forget how he reacted when I told him I didn’t believe in God anymore? Or how he had me raped after?”  
  
“I’m not calling you a liar, but I do have my doubts about that story. He never hit us, and he’s changed. You wouldn’t recognize him anymore.” The way he spoke of our father, it was like he saw him recently. I sat down again, avoiding Jozef’s eyes. He reached out to grab my hand, but I wouldn’t let him touch me. “Michael wasn’t all bad. He doted on you when you were younger, I was jealous of you all the time.”  
  
“Shut up,” I whispered. “Shut up, or I swear to the gods I will have you torn apart by wolves.”  
  
“Maria, you can’t be serious. He will always be your father, and not talking about him won’t get you anywhere.” Jozef leaned back as I got ready to slap him, pulling my arm back for a massive swing. “He still has power over you,” he quickly said, bracing for the slap. It didn’t come.  
  
I sat frozen, only lowering my arm. Jozef was right. It was the same thing one of my therapists had once said, as long as I keep holding onto the hate for my father I would never truly be free of him. He still influenced what I did and why, and now he was threatening to cause a rift between me and my brother. If only I could remember what that therapist had said afterwards, but I probably had stormed off in anger.  
  
“I’m sorry, you’re right. But can we table this discussion for another time, please? Aslaug is about to come in.”  
  
“You have to talk about it,” Jozef warned me.  
  
“I know, and we will. Let’s just take care of one problem at a time, okay? We need to talk about a few other things first.” Promising to discuss our father later gave me time to think about it, as well. I needed more time, for all of this. If I didn’t understand it all before Bjorn came back I would never be able to convince him of the plan I had come up with. It meant I would be signing my brother’s death sentence, but I wanted Bjorn to be back home all the same. I needed him to protect me from my own mind, most of all.  
  
I watched Jozef finish his plate, then got up to do the dishes as he filled up his mug again. Siggy started fussing before I was done, so Jozef took her in his arms to keep her down while she waited for me to feed her.  
  
“You know, you could start them on solids if you want. After three months they’re ready for the first few bites,” Jozef said.  
  
“I know, but it still feels so early. They’re still small for their age, you said so yourself. I don’t want them to miss out on any vitamins, you know we don’t have things added to our food here. Don’t tell me you failed to miss the lack of fluoride in the water.” Most people’s teeth looked horrible, especially those of the middle class somehow. The poorest people had better teeth, and Bjorn’s family wasn’t just blessed with good genes.  
  
“Fluoride comes from broth made of bones here, of course people like to pretend it’s not good for anything. And it’s not like your twins will lack for proper produce, they’ll be fine, I told you. You’re a good mother, you know what you’re doing.”  
  
“But what if there’s a plague? At least they can get some antibodies from me. I don’t want them to die from measles.” I covered Siggy and my breast with a cloth and turned back to Jozef. He looked at me like I was crazy.  
  
“It doesn’t work like that. I mean, it would in the future, but here we have completely different strains of whatever goes around, and there’s no stopping disease when it wants to spread. Even if there was a benefit, the rest of the population isn’t vaccinated. You’re worrying too much, a little pureed food won’t kill them.” I rolled my eyes, perfectly content to cling to my ideas on how to protect the twins.  
  
“You don’t know that,” I muttered. Siggy was fussing more than usual, until Jozef put his finger in her hand.  
  
“They’ll be fine. See, you worrying over them so much makes them worry as well. It would make your life so much easier, I’m thinking of you, too.” He was right, again. At least he understood my arguments, Helga had only been hinting at it. More than once the twins had interrupted me trying to help someone with their wails, and if that would be restricted to calls for dirty diapers, it would be a lot less stressful for me and my guests.  
  
Jozef got up and picked up Thormund, who was still fast asleep. He always drank better when he was up for a bit, and my brother had gotten the hang of it fast.  
  
“Time to wake up, little munchkin.” He tenderly stroked Thormund’s cheek to wake him up. “Yes, I know. I’d rather be sleeping all day as well, but if you don’t eat now you’ll be hungry in a few hours and wake up mommy again. She’s got enough to deal with, your uncle is quite a handful. Yes, I know, it’s all my fault.” My boy made it clear he wasn’t happy with his wake-up call, but Jozef was a natural. He got up and rocked him, making me smile. Siggy was still eagerly drinking, with both her hands on my breast, as if to squeeze it all out. When I took a peek, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times at the light. She was perfect.  
  
Aslaug came in when Thormund was drinking, smiling as she saw Jozef walk around trying to get Siggy to burp.  
  
“Hey, come in. I’m sorry, Siggy took a bit longer than usual today.” Jozef gave me a look that this was what he was talking about. Having them eat with us as we dined ourselves would have been much faster. Still, I didn’t want to rush them for the sake of convenience.  
  
“You sure know how to train men to help you. Ragnar never did any of that for the boys when they were younger. When you were away for the week, he insisted on bathing them himself.” I smiled as I thought of how that would look, Ragnar with rolled up sleeves as he tried to keep Thormund from splashing all the water out of the tub.  
  
“Believe it or not, that was Bjorn’s doing,” I told her. “He didn’t want to trust them to different servants every day, it’s so endearing.” I’d never say it to his face, but the way Bjorn had taken to fatherhood was impressive in how soft and gentle he was. It reminded me of how he treated me when we first started seeing each other, always careful not to make a mistake. In time he would get over it, I had already seen the start of that happening with Thormund.  
  
Aslaug took over Siggy from my brother and played with her as we waited for Thormund to finish feeding.  
  
“It’s so strange to hold a girl in my arms,” she said with a smile. “After four boys…” She had always been too preoccupied with Ivar to really spend time with Dagmar, but it seemed like she wouldn’t let this chance go to waste.  
  
I looked up from Thormund as I heard Siggy make a sound that was awkwardly close to a giggle. Aslaug gasped as she continued making sounds, eliciting more giggles from my daughter. She hadn’t laughed before, neither of them had. And now she chose to do it first with someone who wasn’t me.  
  
I focused back on Thormund, determined not to let it get to me. Jozef put a hand on my knee, but I ignored him.  
  
“She’s laughing! You didn’t tell me she could do that yet, this is huge! Oh, just look at how adorable she is…” I swallowed and steeled myself.  
  
“Yes, she’s been giggling a bit since yesterday,” I lied. “Once again she just had to beat her brother.” Aslaug chuckled as she looked down at my traitor of a daughter.  
  
“Oh, it’s just precious. I’m sure she’ll be a beautiful woman.” Her not calling Siggy a princess irked me even more, giving me yet another reason to be grumpy. Thormund noticed, fussing a bit as he tried to get a hold of my nipple again. I lowered the cloth a bit so he could see my face, that calmed him down.  
  
We talked about the children and Helga’s progressing pregnancy until Thormund was done, then I let Jozef and Aslaug put the twins to bed. She corrected him on his swaddling technique, but I had never heard her chastise someone with such kindness in her voice. I sat back with a mug of tea, letting my disappointment simmer down.  
  
"So what's your plan, Ragnhild?" Aslaug asked when everyone was seated with a fresh drink. "You always seem to know what to do."  
  
"First of all, we need to think of Ivar." Starting off with something important to Aslaug would make it more likely she would be on board. "Harbard, you know how to treat him so he won't have to suffer as much as he used to. It would be great if you could stay around and help Aslaug with taking care of him." Aslaug nodded in agreement. Already, Ivar seemed to be doing a lot better, no one could deny that.  
  
"And how long do you plan on me playing healer?" Jozef asked.  
  
"For as long as we can. I know you, and all that wandering might be fun and all, but eventually you'll want to settle down somewhere. Even if it's just for a year."  
  
"Ragnar won't stay gone for a whole year," Aslaug said. "If he sees Harbard..."  
  
"He'll flip his lid and freak out, I know. But he doesn't know Harbard is my brother. If I can talk to Ragnar before he sees him, or hears about him, I can make him see reason. I know Bjorn would support him staying here, if just to see how things unfold." Jozef didn’t seem to like the plan, not even a little.  
  
"You're banking a lot on that guy, sis." For some reason he wasn’t convinced Bjorn was the right man for me, even though they had never met. My track record with men seemed to be enough evidence for him that I was bound to have picked another loser.  
  
"That guy is my husband, and I'm banking a lot on you too, brother. You need to keep it in your pants for the time being. We can't have half the village pregnant when the men return." His nostrils flared at my comment.  
  
"Don't make me out to be some sort of manwhore!"  
  
"Then stop acting like one! How old are you? This isn't back home, you can't take the same chances."  
  
"What? Do you mean to tell me women don't get pregnant in the future?"  
  
"No, gods no! We can prevent it from happening, or abort the pregnancy if the child is unwanted." Aslaug got a terrified expression, telling me she had no idea just what it meant to come to the Vessel for a cup of tea. There was one jar filled with a mixture that made the yellow tansy flowers hardly noticeable, and it was highly sought-after in the spring when the first boats came into port. "It's only done at the first half of the pregnancy, don't worry about it too much." Jozef didn’t feel like explaining much, either.  
  
"What do you mean when you said Bjorn will be okay with me being here?” he asked. “Does he even know I exist?"  
  
"He does, he just thinks you're dead, like the rest of the family. What else was I supposed to say, that you weren't born yet?" I didn't want Jozef to know Bjorn knew of our secret until I knew I could trust him. Aslaug had agreed to keep that between us for the moment, but from the sight of her, she wasn’t going to say much tonight. "And please stop interrupting me, at least let me tell you everything before you start asking questions. I want you to stay here for a while, and we'll think of some story to tell the rest of Kattegat so they won't find out we're related. Something like how Aslaug doesn't trust you, but still wants you to help Ivar."  
  
"And risk my life on how well you can keep Ragnar from killing me? No thanks, sis."  
  
"Is it really that bad I want you in my life?" He fell silent at that, calming down considerably. "We've been through so much shit together, and I thought I'd never see you again. Did you really think I'd want you to leave after a week?"  
  
"I - I wasn't sure, to be honest. After last time... I messed up, sis." His contrite look made me feel bad about myself. I thought he knew I was happy to see him, but we didn’t have the same strong connection as before anymore.  
  
"We both did. But that's another life, as far as I'm concerned. I want to try and reconnect with you." He took in a deep, slow breath as he realized I meant it.  
  
"I'd like that as well, but I'm still a little confused why she is here. It's not like we'd need her for the plan."  
  
"Aside from being the queen and Ivar's mother? She's the one that brought us here." Jozef dropped his mug on the table.  
  
"What? No, but... how? Why?" His eyes flitted from me to Aslaug and back repeatedly.  
  
"That's why she's here. I found out half a year ago, but I'm still wondering about those things." We both turned to look at Aslaug, who steadied herself. Whatever she had expected, being ganged up on by us wasn’t it.  
  
"I saw death and destruction. The Viking way of life will disappear before long, taken over by the Christian god. He will destroy us all." A part of me still didn’t believe it, but I knew better than to cast prophecies into the wind by now.  
  
"That's not what happens," Jozef said. "Christianity will take over, but most Viking will be converted by force in about three hundred years. You’re not hunted down, you’ll be… Different."  
  
"I saw only death. The whole of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark will be destroyed, leaving only a handful of people alive. They will be hunted down and driven into the interior. There they will only find death and famine. That's why I asked the gods to send us help."  
  
"And the gods gave you the two of us?" Jozef had a hard time believing it. It felt like validation, to have him react the same as I had. I couldn’t resist throwing a look at Aslaug telling her so.  
  
"I wasn't exactly happy with it, either. I thought it was just Ragnhild, but with two of you..."  
  
"Us being here will have changed the future already," I said. “There’s a chance we already prevented it.” I knew it wasn’t true, the Seer had told me as much. I had some things still left to do here, and they would come in time. For now, it was best to focus on the things in front of me, like the twins and my brother.  
  
"It sure has," Jozef scoffed as he looked my way. "You married Bjorn, for one."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, getting angry. Jozef switched to Dutch, getting angry himself.  
  
"You have no idea, do you? He is supposed to go to the Mediterranean and marry some princess from that region. You marrying him will prevent him from going there, so many people are supposed to lose their lives during his raids. And that baby in the hall? He's supposed to conquer Britain." Ivar? How was he ever going to take over an island as big as that?  
  
"What? You can't be serious. Do you blame me for this?"  
  
"Who knows what will happen now! You fucked up! You went to Paris with fucking trebuchets, of course I'm fucking pissed! Or did you forget France is supposed to attack us in a couple of centuries? How do you think that will pan out if they're that much ahead of us? Napoleon will squash us like bugs." That was it. After all the hesitation and worry on my side I had finally made my peace with me being able to stay here without the time traveling interfering with my life, and he was pulling on the stitches that kept my arguments together.  
  
"Oh, like you're so fucking innocent! Who knows what those children you'll have conceived by now will do? Who knows how much pain and sorrow you've caused with that dick of yours!"  
  
"That's different!"  
  
"You don't know that!" Thormund and Siggy had started crying. I let out a frustrated grunt and went to calm them down. Them waking up before their last feed when I went to bed myself would mean a difficult night.  
  
"You did far worse, already. Ragnar's supposed to have at least twenty sons. Bjorn should have four."  
  
"And you were supposed to have none in this time." He was too easy to glance over his own influence on the timeline.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Aslaug asked, looking confused over the familiar names.  
  
"My sister has done some terrible things to change the future," Jozef answered.  
  
"So did he," I bit. "He knows what's supposed to happen, he read about the Viking age."  
  
"Your son Bjorn is supposed to kill you somewhere in Denmark," Jozef said.  
  
"What? He's not my son! He's Lagertha's..."  
  
"Jozef!" I hissed. "Don't tell her anything. If you want to keep the future the way it is, this is not the way to do it."  
  
"Bjorn will kill me..." Aslaug was blown away, which was exactly the reason I didn’t want anyone to know too much about the future in the first place. Like the Seer’s prophecies, they made people do desperate things.  
  
"No, he won't. History's already changed too much. There's no reason to think what he knows will happen. In any case your vision doesn't match up with what he knows. And it's not like you ever keep records of anything, there's no way to know for sure. He’s not your son, for one. You have nothing to worry about, I’m sure of it." Bjorn would never take her life, it meant the boys would have to grow up without their mother. He knew the pain of having to miss a parent.  
  
"You can't be sure it has changed, though..."  
  
"Yes, I can." Siggy had finally calmed down. I put a finger in Thormund's mouth, and he went silent as well. He was already starting to teeth, clearly wanting to catch up on Siggy where size and firsts were concerned.  
  
"How can you know that?" Jozef asked.  
  
"Because it's now finally clear to me how this fucking time travelling worked. I was thinking of time as a straight line, but it's not. We're in multiverse theory here. Everything you think you know is now null and void. If it were singular, we both would be dead or gone by now."  
  
"Do you understand what she's saying?" Aslaug asked Jozef.  
  
"Unfortunately, I do," he said with a sigh. "With her screw-up in Paris, it has to be."  
  
"What did she do there?"  
  
"She built those trebuchets and made sure the future is uncertain." He just kept on nagging me on that, it was infuriating.  
  
"Don't put all of this on me, you've done your fair share of time tampering as well." Thormund had calmed down as well and I took a piece of charcoal, sitting down again. "In our time, the concept of time travel is very interesting. Most people look at time as being a single line." I drew a single line on the table. "You can only go forward on that line, there's no turning back. But when you do, like the two of us did, you create a loop, like this. From the moment we got here, just us being here changed things. It started out with small details, but we have since reached a point where the both of us changed major events in history."  
  
"And when you say history, you mean now?" Aslaug asked. She stared at the line, sitting as if frozen.  
  
"Yes. And from that moment on, we disrupted the flow of time." I put the piece of charcoal on a point halfway on the line. "We could have gone this way, or that, or that..." I drew some lines from the same point in the line. "And now we don't know what will happen. So, are we still on that same line we started out with, or are we on another?" Aslaug at least seemed to understand there was a problem.  
  
"So... what now?"  
  
"I have no idea," I admitted, frowning as I sat down again.  
  
"Sis, do you really believe the gods brought us back?" He was just as confused about it as me, and that was strangely comforting.  
  
"How else were we brought back here at the same time? What else could explain it?" If the gods didn’t do it, then what had happened?  
  
"If you've eliminated all the possibilities..."  
  
"Then whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth," I finished. Aslaug chuckled a bit.  
  
"You truly are twins, you both speak in similar riddles."  
  
"We don't speak in riddles," we said at the same time. I groaned and put a hand to my face. It only made Aslaug laugh harder. From between my fingers I could see Jozef had the same reaction.  
  
"I think there's only one real question left, then," Jozef said. "Will we prevent the downfall of the Viking? Will we do what Aslaug has asked the gods?"  
  
"Even if we made a decision, who's to say what we want to happen will actually happen? Everything we think we know is no longer true." None of us spoke, all lost in thought. The only way to know for sure was to go back to the future and see what had happened. I didn’t even want to think that was possible.


	117. Consessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jozef/Harbard POV  
> 26-06-803

It was agony, to have her this close and not be able to touch her like I used to. For years now I had been trying to get my sister to remember, but it had never worked, not even for a bit. Somehow, her having built a life here had only made it worse. If only I had come back to Kattegat sooner, I would have been able to keep her from finding her way to those cruel gods.   
  
Whatever I had to do to get her back home with me, I had to do it fast. She had to remember and regain her faith in Father's plan, or she would never be able to return. His patience was wearing thin, but not my resolve.   
  
"I heard the most peculiar story from a trader," I said as I looked at my sister. Sigurd still clung to her tight, giving me the nastiest look he could muster at four years of age. If only he knew just who he was scowling at.   
  
"Oh, we love new stories," she said with a smile. "What's it about?"   
  
"You'll find out," I promised with a smile. "It's a sad story, about family that's been torn apart." Sigurd immediately pouted.   
  
"Auntie," he murmured as he buried his face in her dress. She nodded, telling me to start. Sigurd's clinginess was wearing her out, bit by bit. Even her kindness had its limits, and it took a while to get there.   
  
"Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived high up on a cloud, with her father and brother, and a lot of their friends. Her father was very powerful and controlled all the land below. Her brother helped keep the peace, and the girl was asked to keep their cloud nice and comfy. Her name was Fela. She was kind, and beautiful, with red hair and green eyes, but she had a mind of her own." Fela smiled, making me wonder if she liked the story because she started remembering. I had to keep up hope, for it was all there was left. We hadn’t dared call her by her real name, yet.   
  
Father had never been much for originality when it came to naming his children. He'd done his best for his sons, but the women had to contend with a female suffix. Michaela, Urieles, it wasn't hard to see how Raphaella had come to her own name, or her idea that Father loved his sons more than his daughters. She was wrong, of course, but that was the least of my worries.   
  
"Fela wanted to go down to the lands as well, to help even more people find their happiness. Her friends at the clouds were taking her for granted, she thought. Oftentimes she had fought with her father over it, and he had never given in to her requests. Her brother, Raphael, was heart-broken when he found out she had left him. They were twins, you see, so they were supposed to be together always. And she up and left him, in the middle of the night, without a word." It still stung. I thought she could trust me with something as foolish as wanting to Fall, but she had left me out of it. I liked to tell myself it was to protect me.   
  
Father had been furious when he found out, but I didn't know anything. He saw I spoke the truth, He had even allowed me to go after her, but she had already made her way to Asgard. Whatever had driven her to go there of all places, I didn’t know.   
  
"Fela disappeared one night, without so much as a warning. Raphael spent days searching for her, desperate to have her come home, but she had gone over to a different cloud. The people there made her do terrible things to prove she wanted to join them. She had to change her hair, and the color of her eyes, cast aside parts of herself, they even had her fight dragons. Those people were cruel to her, but she persisted. In her mind, nothing was worse than returning home. She didn't know that everyone was worried about her, and that they prayed that she would return home one day." Fela... I wanted her back in my life, like things had used to be. Even if she didn't look anything like me anymore, I didn't care. I just wanted her back, even if the Æsir had made her ugly.   
  
Nothing was left of her soft features. Her face had grown longer, her skin was no longer pale as cream, and her eyes weren't full of wonder anymore. They were sharp, as those of the Northmen she now lived with. I had heard the men here call her beautiful, but they didn't know true beauty. They wouldn't recognize perfection if they saw it with their own eyes.   
  
"When her brother finally found her, years had gone by. He barely recognized her. She didn’t recognize him, she had even forgotten his name. He was a stranger to her, and try as he might, she would not return home with him. She didn’t remember the cloud, or their father, or even that she had left them behind. Raphael’s heart broke, he was terrified she would be lost to him forever. But he had vowed to get her back home, so he tried his best. She would need to find her way home herself, but wherever she went, she always had her brother by her side. Then came the day that they were torn apart again. Raphael searched everywhere for his Fela, but he couldn't find her. He knew that she wouldn't recognize him once they met again, but he never gave up on her. And even now, he's trying to find his sister, and her memories."   
  
Fela kept quiet. I couldn't get a read on her, or what went on in her mind. She had forgotten, about everything. Her fights with Father, her flight from home, how she had been disfigured and mutilated by the gods she had once again come to worship... The way her body had adapted to being mortal, it wouldn't surprise me if her wing joints were fused with her ribs. The same had happened to Lucifer.   
  
"I don’t like his story," Sigurd pouted. That didn't surprise me for one bit. The boy sensed that my intentions were not what they appeared to be, somehow. There was a lingering speck of a god's blood in him, but it was too faint for him to realize why he felt so wary of me. I couldn't sense if it was an important god or not, either. One thing was for sure, it was annoying.   
  
"What don’t you like about it, little man?" Sigurd crawled away in Fela's arms even further. It always soothed him when Fela called him that, but he started cowering at the sound of my voice. Rightfully so.   
  
"I have to say, I’m a bit confused as well," Fela said. "It doesn’t sound like the story is finished yet." I sat back with a smile. If this story would linger on the edge of her mind, just maybe...   
  
"It’s not. I don’t know how it’ll end yet. Raphael is still watching over his sister."   
  
"And what kind of beings are they, exactly?" Was there something she recognized? A detail, perhaps? It wouldn't have to take much more to trigger it all, the mortals in the prison realm had made great progress with discovering how memories worked.   
  
"They’re angels," I told her in Dutch.   
  
"Don’t speak of false gods here," she warned me, keeping her face pleasant. Sigurd looked up at us, looking confused. His brows knitted together, as if he was mad at both of us.   
  
"What did he say?" the boy asked.   
  
"Sometimes we don’t know how to say things in Norse, that’s all. I just told him to keep to Norse so you can understand as well. We don’t mean to keep secrets from you." I was impressed with how fast she could come up with a lie. No, she must have figured he would ask about it at one point. She was wary of anyone figuring out we were related.   
  
"His stories are stupid." Sigurd was wearing my patience thin. The lad took up too much of her time and made her wary of me. Aside from her husband and children, Sigurd tied her to this shithole the most. "I'm going to play with Sneezy." He went off without so much as a goodbye.   
  
"His pet goat?" I asked. I recalled how she had named a few others after the dwarves from Snow White. It was such a typical thing for Fela to do. She had come up with new names for all of her sisters, only Urieles had stuck to her original name, too worried that Father wouldn’t like it. Alice was as good a name as Lucy and Chelsea, but our third sister was just too concerned with His wishes.   
  
"I hoped it would calm him down, having something to take care of. I couldn't get him a cat like we had." I sat down next to her, knowing I had to keep her unaware of my motives. We had always engaged in heated debates, but I couldn't risk losing her trust.   
  
"You're doing wonderfully with him. His brothers caught on that I have been sleeping with their mother, he must have heard some things from them. That's all, you know I've behaved since I got back. It's old hurt, nothing more." She didn't seem glad I brought it up. It was still a sore point for her, for some reason. It was foolish to hope that it was her remembering that was one of the rules we weren’t meant to break, but it tugged at my heart, all the same.   
  
I didn't even know why I had given into Aslaug's temptation again. The first time around it had been to gather information from her, but now... She clung to me in desperation, she needed me. If I could convince a pagan queen to love me, then what stopped me from convincing Fela to come back home?   
  
"What was that story about, anyway? You know you can't talk about angels here, why would you risk it?" Fela switched to Dutch again, speaking in a hushed tone. She didn't remember, she was just worried about being found out. I had to take a few risks every now and then, playing it safe hadn't worked so far, and time was running out.   
  
"I always have to come up with new stories, no one wants to have a wanderer around who doesn't know a new story or two. I take my inspiration where I can get it," I said.   
  
"Female angels, though? Are you insane? Dad would ground you for a year, if he heard." My jaw stiffened. The way she thought Michael was her father was sickening. He had taken it too far the last time. Just because he outranked us didn't mean he was the better leader. His sword of divine order was nothing compared to our vengeance, and we didn't need an order from Father to fell our judgment. We were the judgment.   
  
“I’m not judging you, I’m just worried. If someone finds out where we come from, or who we are to each other… I can’t risk it.” It was tempting, though. If the town found out, she would lose her social standing. Ragnar wouldn’t trust her again, and the tensions would maybe even cause a rift between her and her husband. Fela depended on them, and it was strange to be thankful to those pagans. They had managed to turn her soft again.   
  
I had seen she had hardened, as a person. Michael's way of dealing with that had been to be even harder, forcing her to become soft like she used to. From the start I had been against it, but he had grown fond of the power he held as our pretend-father. It had grown so bad that he had forced me to leave the house for a few years, but as I tried to come up with a new way for her to come back to us, we had come back here.   
  
Michael was no doubt behind that stunt. Glad as I was to be free again, it had taken me three years to find Fela. I knew Michael was on earth for a longer period of time, but he was reluctant to share more. I hadn't bothered with him much, and I was loath to return home without her. It would lead to questions I didn’t want to answer, and not just from our siblings. Our Father would want to know more, as well.   
  
Fela wasn’t ready yet. We talked a lot about what had gone on in the prison realm, and it ate at my soul. It had been a mistake to leave her with Michael, for one. Fela had been miserable, that much was clear when Michael had called to tell me she had stabbed him. I had felt a surge of pride then, and I still did. For a woman who thought she was mortal to stab an archangel... It gave me hope. Then again, if Michael had truly made her life a living hell, if he had truly gotten her raped, I would have no qualms about shoving his own sword down his throat. It was foolish to cross an archangel, but Fela and I... Vengeance was in our blood, it was our reason to exist.   
  
"Then thank goodness that floppy turd isn't here. Is it really so strange for you to think angels could be real? You believed in God once, and now you believe in many. You even have this blanket that depicts you with wings." She chuckled, as if I had told a joke. I was nowhere near her having an epiphany on her past.   
  
"The Valkyrie are nothing like angels," she said. "For starters, Valkyrie are all women. They bring the dead up to Folkvangr, and they're mighty warriors. I thought you knew that." I knew all too well what kind of bitches they could be. I had come across my fair share of them myself, and I just couldn't imagine Fela wanting to become one of them. She had lost her wings, though I knew she would be able to take them all on. She wasn't the strongest of the Seraphim, but she and Michaela were pretty damn close. What she lacked for in strength, she made up for in cleverness.   
  
"I know," I said, "but once upon a time I heard you saying you wished you had wings of your own, so you could fly away." We had been children, as far as she was concerned. It had taken my all to keep from telling her the truth, that would have doomed both of us to hell. Father had been clear, she needed to come back of her own volition. We couldn’t tell her who she was, or where she belonged.   
  
"Back then I wanted to be adopted, as well. Angels aren't real, and neither are humans with wings. Either way, this isn't the place to talk of such things. I warned you, you have to be careful." I sighed, resigning to yet another failed attempt. But I couldn't give up hope now. Her believing in anything at all was new, and new meant there was a chance.   
  
"I'm sorry, you're right. I'll be off for a bit, I need to clear my head." I meant to kiss her cheek as I had often done before, but it would have gotten me another rebuke. Fela had changed so much in her thinking and her appearance, but her personality was still the same. She still abhorred injustice and was convinced women were worth as much as men. I couldn't understand her logic. We were different, and that was a good thing. We complemented each other, without her serving in Heaven I wouldn't be able to focus on my work on earth. Not that I'd gotten a lot of that done, the last few centuries... I'd have to make up for lost time for close to a millennium. But she was worth it.   
  
On my way to the forest, my mind wandered to the past. Fela had been well-respected, and loved. She knew to share her wild opinions on the division of labor with only her closest friends, and me. She didn’t agree on how she and her sisters had to serve, she thought the lesser angels were even worse off, and at times she had reminded me of Lucifer. He had truly fallen, cast back by Michael. Close to a third of Heaven had agreed with him and had revolted against His Plan. Fela had fought on our side then, but soon after she started asking questions.   
  
It had grown from a friendly discussion to heated debate, until one day she had confronted Father about it. That must have been where it went wrong. No one wanted to be affiliated with someone who questioned the Plan. After she had left, her friends had called her selfish, and stupid. Suddenly, everyone had known she was up to trouble. They said she had brought it all upon herself, and it had hurt to see her put down like that. I wasn't ashamed of her, not for a second. I had stood by her, defended her against the gossip.   
  
Only our siblings had stood by her, more or less. We had been her lifeline for coming back, but as the years went by, they adjusted to life without her. Then the rumors had come in, about what she was doing, and where she was.   
  
Centuries later, all I wanted to know was what drew her north. These gods she believed in now were crueler than Father at times, it was such a strange choice to run to them. And to choose a Fall... It was as close to suicide as we could come, like running into a stray arrow on accident. How had I not seen how desperate she had been? I failed her. I should have been there to support her, but now...   
  
“Fela, my dear... What have you gotten yourself into?" She would come out of this bleeding, no matter what would happen. Her loving kindness was her biggest strength, and her biggest weakness.   
  
"Talking to yourself is generally frowned upon." I turned around, seeing a familiar shape emerge from between the trees. Loki. He hadn’t aged a day. His black hair was still a great tangle, his robes still blue as the sky over Asgard, and his face still ugly, in the way the Northmen preferred.   
  
"I cannot say these words to her face. Am I to keep them bottled up inside?" Speaking to him, I realized just how much my speech had altered after spending all that time in the prison realm. Fela had the same habit.   
  
"Perhaps it would be wiser. You know what will have to happen, soon." My face contorted at his words. Where he was concerned, it was safe to assume the worst.   
  
"You will not take her life," I warned him. “You have no say over her.”   
  
"Not even when your father wills it? Time is running out, as you well know." He walked up to me, reaching up to my chin.   
  
"What is your obsession with her all about, anyway? What is Fela to you?" He had tricked her into finding her way back to Asgard from that prison realm of his, and then he had tricked Father into letting me and Michael get locked in there with her, centuries later.   
  
"Your darling sister cannot join the Valkyrie. Why not focus on that? It's a goal we have in common." Loki creeped me out. It wasn't his appearance, but his tone. He was a master manipulator. Everything about him was calculated.   
  
"I do not trust you. What makes you think we have anything in common?" I rolled my shoulders back, unleashing my wings and my glory. I wouldn't let him intimidate me.   
  
"Easy now, you're at a disadvantage in these lands. Besides, I have been working together with your father for a while, he wouldn't want you to injure me with your righteous fury." Despite his brave words, I knew he was impressed with the sight of me. My hair had turned bright red, my eyes were now once again green. The familiar cream-colored robes fell loosely over my limbs, and the blue sash I wore swirled around my arm once, the ends swirling around my body.   
  
"You look like a toddler," Loki said with a grin. "I like you better when you pose as a mortal." I grabbed him by his robes and lifted him off the ground with ease. His grin didn’t waver.   
  
"You trapped me inside that prison. Give me one good reason not to kill you."   
  
"War," he said with a glint in his eyes. "You Cherub are no match for our Valkyries. Odin will unleash the full fury of Asgard if you hurt his blood brother." Those damn pagans and their blood bonds... He was right, Father would never let my sisters fight. The Seraphim army would never fight but in training, or to save His life. I would die before I saw that happen.   
  
I dropped him to the floor, cursing my impatience. If I killed him now, Fela's life was forfeit. It was but a matter of months now, I had no time to explain my actions to other deities as I tried to bring her back. I had no choice but to let him live. I hated having to make an idle threat.   
  
"Like it or not, you need my help." The mere suggestion made me laugh.   
  
"Your help? Last time I thought to trust you -"   
  
"Last time I tricked your father. Don't make me use what I have against you, please. It makes me feel dirty." I doubted it, he would very much enjoy watching chaos ensue. I lowered my wings as I realized he needed me for something. "Honestly, the queen? If you just took it all out on a slave no one would have been the wiser." Michael would kill me as soon as he heard, not bothering to wait for Father’s order. We were to serve others, not get served ourselves. But something about Aslaug drove me to seek her out, to satiate my lust upon her. It was almost like I didn’t have a choice, as if… Someone manipulated me.   
  
“You seem to have no trouble getting people to do what you want. Why not take care of her yourself?” Loki circled me as he thought on my question.   
  
“What makes you think I haven’t spoken to her?”   
  
“She never mentioned you.”   
  
“You’re not the only one with a disguise. She believes my every word.” If he was interfering with her life, I needed to know how he did it.   
  
“You must be so proud of being able to manipulate a woman who thinks she is mortal…” He stopped in front of me, standing on his toes to reach my face.   
  
“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to know how I do it. Suffice to say, I will be watching you work. I have too much invested to leave things up to chance.” I would figure it out.   
  
"What do you propose?" If he was willing to blackmail me, he had better have one hell of a plan.   
  
"Oh, you'll love it. Remember that boy, Sigurd? Have him work as your errand boy. Tell him that his auntie will disappear if he disobeys, like you made that Siggy disappear. It won't take much to convince him." The boy clung to her as glue. To use a lad of his age, though… Loki was willing to go far. Children were unspoiled and were to be left alone until they came of age at twelve.   
  
"And what is it I should have him do?" I needed to hear him say it.   
  
"Why, make your sister doubt her own sanity, of course! Make her vulnerable, make her resent her new family, then strike when the time is right. If you can't convince her soon, she will die. And knowing your father, he will ask you to do it." Loki was right. Father would want me to prove my loyalty, if she truly deserved death. And I wouldn't be able to do much about it, I couldn't go against Him. But if it really came down to that choice... Would I be able to do it? Could I kill my twin sister, the one I had spent centuries trying to save?   
  
"Lost your tongue?" Loki's creepy smile made me want to lash out again. He tried to trick me, there was always a catch with him. That much I had learned from the pagan stories, and my own short dealings with him. But it had been played on me before I had even noticed. He had the leverage he needed to hold me in his grasp. If Father ever found out about my joining with a pagan... He would strip me of my wings, then smite me himself.   
  
"You have yourself a deal," I said begrudgingly.   
  
"A deal? Oh, I'm afraid you misunderstand. You will accept my help, and in return, you do as I say. It's your best shot at getting back your sister and drag her off to that happy Helheim she escaped." He wanted me to react. I couldn't give him the satisfaction, I had to show I was better than that. I tried to keep it in, but I failed.   
  
"You know nothing about my sister. She was happy there, she had a calling and a place to call her home. That's all she ever needed."   
  
"Keep telling yourself that, love." His fingers slid over my cheek, mimicking how I used to caress Fela after a long day. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." Before I realized, he lunged forward and slung an arm around me. I pushed him off, but as I did, Loki pulled a feather from my left wing. The sensation made me gasp, even though the feather was already growing back.   
  
The imp almost danced as I tried to understand just what had happened. The feather proudly in his hand, he marveled at his own success. I couldn't see the use of his having a feather of mine, we left them for mortals to find their way all the time.   
  
"Oh, don't worry," he said as he caught me staring. "You won't miss this specific one, just think of it as payment for my help today. We'll keep that sister of yours from falling further." Truth be told, there wasn't much further to fall. The others had all abandoned her already, and as for Father... It was me who kept her tethered to Heaven. If I were to give up, Fela would have completely fallen, it only took one faithful brethren to keep from passing judgment. Michael was surely done with her, after she had tried to kill him.   
  
"Why do you want her to go back to Heaven?" I asked. Loki’s smile fell away. Wary as his smile made me, it was better than this dread-inducing look of determination.   
  
"Like I said, she cannot join the Valkyrie. She cannot be permitted to live her lives out here on Midgard, either. I need her gone, before she unleashes a terror too great to contain upon the world. She'll nigh destroy life as I know it." One way or the other... It didn't matter to him, if she would be alive in Heaven, or dead down in hell. Had it not led to war, I would've turned him into salt for that alone. I was dependent on him, at least for whatever time still rested me.   
  
"I will accept your offer of help, if -"   
  
"It's not an offer," he interrupted.   
  
"If you answer me this one question. Why did she flee to Asgard?" Loki laughed so loud, the whole of Kattegat must have heard.   
  
"If you can't figure out the solution, you are part of the problem," he said, still wheezing. "Did anyone ever tell you? In your language, her name means luck, but in ours, it means hidden." Loki pocketed my feather, then gave me a courteous bow. He faded from sight. Only as the last trace of him disappeared, I cursed. He was far more dangerous than a one-way trip to Lucifer with my wings out. Loki knew what he was doing, and how to go about it. And more importantly, he had threatened Fela. Even though he had forced me to accept his offer of help, he would never let me succeed. He meant for her to die, and that I wouldn't forget. Loki would suffer.   
  
I had to keep my cool. I withdrew my wings again, turning my appearance back to what Fela was used to now, the flames dissipating from my hands. Maybe she should see me, though, in all of my glory. If push came to shove and I was supposed to kill her, at least having her remember who she was to me could provide me with some closure. I would know if there ever had been a chance to make her remember.   
  
I needed to know if I was doing the right thing. Loki’s intentions were harmful, but he did have some good points. Father would know what to do, but I didn’t feel like returning to Heaven just yet. And aside from Father, there was only one person I could ask.   
  
"Michael." I prepared myself for the storm that was his voice. His could cut through rock, if he felt like it, even from a distance.   
  
"Brother... What makes you call out after all these years? I thought you resented me for trying to help your sister." I sat down on the ground, wondering what it was I wanted to ask. It was a feeling that made me reach out. The forest was calm now that Loki was gone, but it didn’t soothe my soul. If anyone saw me talking into empty air they would think me insane.   
  
"She’s our sister, not just mine. I found her, but she's not remembering. The trickster told me she has but little time left."   
  
"This surprises you somehow? You worry about your sister, and rightfully so. Father is about to let her Fall as she desires, and you know what will happen then." She would never be allowed back in Heaven, and if we came upon her we would have to kill her. I would never see her alive again.   
  
"I cannot let that happen. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary, but I need you, Michael. For the love you bear me, I..." I had never begged or groveled. I was too proud for it, and as an archangel, it was beneath me. "What if it were Michaela?"   
  
"Michaela knows better than to question Father. I have done enough to help you... Unless, there is something you might offer in return?" he asked.   
  
"You expect me to apologize? After all that you did?" His arrogance knew no bounds. I didn’t know what else I expected.   
  
"You asked for my help, and I gave it. I spent over 150 years trapped in that realm with you, and I never asked for anything in return."   
  
"You drove her to suicide! An archangel, no less! Had she succeeded -" His image appeared before me. Wings out, sword drawn, he looked as menacing as ever. I kept seated, refusing to feed into his ego. "Had she succeeded, you would have fallen from Grace faster than Lucifer." The point of his sword nicked my neck, but I wasn't worried. I was not his enemy, he would not haunt my dreams, or cast me back to where I belonged.   
  
"You had your fair share of blame in that. Did she not try again when she was visiting you in Denmark?" The image of Fela unconscious on the floor, the narrow escape she made because I found her in time and was able to heal her enough to have her survive… The note she left had told me everything. I don’t know where I am anymore, but it’s not with you. It still drove me to the brink of my sanity.   
  
"It started with you," I spat. "If you would've stopped terrorizing her, we could've turned her life around!"   
  
"Well, forgive me for wanting some distance after she stabbed me. In the heart." The fact he was still sour over that made me feel proud of Fela again.   
  
"She should've done far worse to you." I couldn’t help it. I wanted vengeance for what he did to her, especially since she was so helpless herself. It was terrible to have to get her to accept what Michael did to her was out of love, it went against everything she was known for.   
  
"Did you not call out because you need my help?" Michael lowered his sword, at last, beckoning me to rise. I did, but I didn't take his hand.   
  
"I need to know if I am a fool to keep out hope,” I said as I kept my eyes on the trees behind my brother.   
  
"You have always been a fool, little brother." After a few millennia, those few days shouldn't matter anymore. "But I'll admit, I have been thinking about her as well. If it is true she had to go through nine trials before she would be accepted, parting from her wings might have been one of them." That would mean she was lost already.   
  
"That makes no sense, she would have needed them to join the Valkyrie."   
  
"Unless they meant to give them back after a time, to see how dependent she was on them. Or they just might have planned on giving her new wings. Brother, if this is true she must have been faring well there. Without some promise of achieving her goal, she never would have given them up. Your sister is many things, but she was never foolish. Well, not before she lost herself."   
  
"Fela is your sister, too. She's still recovering from the torment you inflicted on her.” He scoffed, not believing a word of what I said. I chose to ignore it, for now. There were more important things to discuss. "The queen had some sort of vision. She's been having dreams about the future." Michael's focus returned to me.   
  
"Is that so?"   
  
"She's convinced that our Father will crush the whole of Scandinavia and Asgard, and Fela and I are the ones to save them." He laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. I thought I saw a raven look our way, but it was gone before I could be sure.   
  
"Well, isn't that good to know. I'm sure you'll know how to use that to your advantage. I take it she has the Sight?"   
  
“Yes, everything points in that direction. Fela told me about it, Aslaug has never been wrong.” Michael’s grin grew even wider.   
  
“Then I’m sure you’ll plant a few visions to benefit yourself. If Fela trusts you, she should be susceptible.”   
  
“I know how it works,” I snapped. “Just because I don’t like meddling with mortals doesn’t mean I forgot how to.” Getting her to believe she was a danger to those around her was easy, but that would mean she wouldn’t want to be around me, either.   
  
"Then what is it you want from me? Truly? Are you looking for someone to tell you it is okay to give up if this doesn’t work? Do you want me to fix your problems for you? Would you like me to kill our sister and take the blame with Father?" My eyes narrowed at his callous questions.   
  
"You'll not lay a hand on her, ever again. I merely want to ask you if you have ever seen a hint of her coming back to us. What seemed to be working?" Michael dropped his attitude and hid his wings away. We both knew time was running out. And yet, he wanted to help me. Not for her sake, but mine. It was better than nothing.   
  
"I had you singing at the church, the songs seemed to appeal to her." That was where I had held a guitar for the first time. I still loved to play songs, and I had learned a great many new ones in the prison. It was relaxing, to do things that mortals liked doing. It had been different for Fela. She wasn’t able to relax for long, if ever. She had always been on edge, terrified of what Michael would do to her if she stepped out of line.   
  
"Music was always a way to escape for her. From what I heard she mostly sings about love, which is somehow frowned upon here." Michael scoffed, then rolled his eyes.   
  
"No wonder she was so repressed. She used to be the life of the feasts, but I don't suppose she's been dancing much, lately."   
  
"Fela is confused," I insisted. "She thinks that we came back here from the future, she has this crazy theory that the Asgardians brought her to this century. She’s terrified of being found out, but that queen knows about it, because of that vision. They’re both convinced it’s true." Michael sighed as he shook his head.   
  
"She used to be smarter than that."   
  
"She lost her memories, it's not that far-fetched considering she doesn't remember a thing."   
  
"Oh, sweet brother mine, you love her beyond all reason. If she thinks traveling through time is more likely than the truth, she is further gone than we thought." I hated him for saying it out loud, but he was right. I couldn't deny not having seen a speck of her powers. Fela had turned into an empty husk of what she had once been, and these Viking had filled her up with nonsense and falsehoods. They had turned her into someone I hardly recognized.   
  
"That's not all... Michael, she... I still have a hard time believing it myself, but she gave birth. To twins." His shoulders dropped as he sank down on the trunk beside me. He stared out in front of him. "She's still feeding them, I have no idea how this came to be."   
  
"But... That's impossible. We can't conceive children, none of us can. How did she..." His face turned angry, and I knew what he was thinking. Asgard was responsible for this, somehow. They had changed more than her appearance, perhaps even traded her wings for fertility.   
  
"Our father will be furious when he finds out.” We weren’t supposed to procreate, it interfered with our purpose. If he told Him, her life was forfeit. I knew it was a risk to tell him, but I was getting desperate. This was not the time to keep secrets when they could change my plans.   
  
"I'm an uncle..." I had misjudged his reaction. Michael sounded almost happy.   
  
"She got one of each, the girl was born first. They were born a few days after New Year's."   
  
"Bastards?" he asked as he turned to me.   
  
"No, even worse. Some pagan got her to marry him, just a few moons back. He's the heir to the kingdom." Only now his anger came to the surface, making me wary all over. Michael reacted to the strangest triggers, as if he knew more than any of us.   
  
"That piece of filth... He'll die for this. No pagan defiles our sister and lives to tell about it. What is his name?"   
  
"Bjorn Ironside." Michael let out an evil chuckle.   
  
"Son of Ragnar Lothbrok?"   
  
"Don't tell me you've heard of him."   
  
"Oh, I did. He's at my villa now, I had to take charge of England for the coming time. He's out fighting for me now, I figured they were perfect to settle that incestuous nest in Mercia. When he gets back I'll punish him, and his father." Something told me that would be a bad idea, but I wasn't sure if it was my love for Fela or something else entirely.   
  
"Let me take care of them. I've got a plan, and I need more time with Fela to make sure it succeeds. Her grieving over her husband will complicate things." Michael turned to face me, malicious intent written all over his face.   
  
"And you wouldn't be saying that to shelter her fragile heart, now would you?"   
  
"I'm saying this because I want our sister to return home with us. I'll get her to come to England with me, we'll find you there. If she sees you, she will know the gods didn't bring us back. We can talk to her, make her understand."   
  
"Then what of the children?" he asked. His eyes turned up to the sky, his mind still reeling from the news.   
  
"Who cares about them? They aren't Nephilim, I made sure to check that when I found out about them. And besides, her husband isn't a regular mortal. He and his brothers have a drop of a god's blood in them, and I'm certain it comes from their father. They're protected, as are the twins, and we can't risk waging war with Asgard yet. Not over a few mortals."   
  
"You put some thought into this," he admitted reluctantly. "It won't be easy, but I'll let them live. I'll find another way to have my revenge. Ironside's mother is a guest at my villa, as it happens..." That gnarly smile told me I wasn't the only one taking liberties during my extended stay on Earth, but it did little to soothe my mind. "Tell me about this plan of yours."   
  
"There is this one thing I came up with..." I didn't dare look up at Michael, he would laugh when he heard. "If she loses her family here in town, she might just be receptive to hearing about the other one she has." I felt ashamed for saying it out loud.   
  
"Well, look who manages to surprise me, even after all this time. This sounds rather devious, for your doing. It just might work..." His grin was sickening. I didn't ravel in having to kill my sister's family. Michael was the one who wasn't troubled with slaughtering infants. "You'll need a cover story, though. If she ever finds out..."   
  
"There's a mortal who is already obsessed with her. I can use him to take care of her family, including the children she loves to cling to. Losing them as well will make her desperate again." Loki’s plan had its merits, despite him being despicable. If Michael agreed it was a solid plan, I wouldn’t get into trouble over any of it with our Father.   
  
"I'm certain Father won't object to you slaying a few pagans. It sounds like you already have a plan. What are you hesitant about?" For once, his eyes held the worry of a brother. After years of having to pretend to be raised by him, I had not expected a nice moment like this to be possible between us for another century.   
  
"I worry for her, as always. She is not one to forget injustice, and, well..."   
  
"This would be quite the injustice against her. Then I ask you, would you rather have her alive but angry with you, or dead and unaware?" When he put it like this, the choice was easily made. I would seek out Erlendur again and have him speed up his plans.   
  
"If she dies..." I had never really thought about it. It hadn't been an option, ever, but now... We were cutting it close.   
  
"Then you have done whatever was in your power," Michael said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You will heal from this wound, too. Father is watching, he's granting you time to fulfill this plan. Give it your all, save your twin." Easy as that, he was gone again, and I was left to plot out how to destroy my sister's life by myself.   
  
Six children, two of them babes, and one adult. Erlendur would want to take out her other family and friends as well. That was the price of a last attempt to get Fela back. Innocent blood on my hands, pagan blood. There was no time like the present.   
  
Wings already out, I changed my appearance back to that of a pagan and flew to Sweden. It took longer than normal, as the love of our Father wasn’t that wide-spread here. Five seconds to get from Norway to Sweden was ridiculous.   
  
Erlendur was in the woods around Gothenburg, messing around with some strange bow. I had seen more of them across the north, they had come back from the raid on Paris somehow. Rolling my shoulders to hide my wings again, I walked up to him. When I put my foot down on a twig, Erlendur aimed his bow at me, armed and ready. He was smarter than he looked, as he lowered it when he recognized me.   
  
“Harbard,” he said. I hated that name, but I had needed a faint connection to their gods to make these people trust me.   
  
“Erlendur. What a lovely welcome.” He put his bow down and got up, but I gestured for him to stay seated. I joined him on the log, not bothered about getting these scraps of clothing dirty. Aslaug would have someone wash them for me, no doubt.   
  
“You came back faster than I expected,” he said. “What happened? Did something…”   
  
“My sister is fine, as is her husband alas. You know how much I despise him.” A fire burned behind his eyes, as if to tell me he hated Bjorn more.   
  
“That scum should’ve died when I sent that berserker after him.” Indeed he should have… Except for that drop of god’s blood, that made him more wary of his environment than other mortals. Bjorn’s reflexes were exceptional.   
  
“I need you to come to Kattegat sooner. Prepare for the trip immediately.” Erlendur glanced around at his pack. There wasn’t much to prepare, he had been a fugitive since he was driven out of Hedeby. An unfortunate setback, he was supposed to hold it and draw Bjorn to his shores. “Travel by land and stay out of sight.”   
  
“As always. Your sister is worth it. I will have her love. The gods know I sacrificed my family to be with her, they will not turn a blind eye.” How fitting, as Odin had but the one. He hadn’t as much as lifted a finger during all of this.   
  
“We will not,” I agreed. “I will return shortly and make her doubt her marriage and life in Kattegat. She will be ripe for the taking.” Erlendur’s face contorted in a lecherous smile. As he let his tongue pass over his lips, I knew what filth he was thinking. I resisted the urge to chop off his head.   
  
“When will we meet again?” he asked. I knew he was talking of Fela, but I wouldn’t let him give in to his urges too soon.   
  
“I will find you near the Seer’s cabin. The gods see and hear all, I will come to you.” It didn’t matter to me that I had to pretend to be one of Asgard. I had to keep my sister safe, Erlendur himself was a prime example of what was wrong with these pagan beasts. To lust over my sister like that… If he somehow survived his visit to Kattegat, I would smite him myself.   
  
“I will keep her safe. I know what an honor it is to be with the mortal sister to one of the Vanir. Rest assured, I will treasure her always. Has she mentioned me? Does she know I will come for her?” The poor mortal. He had no idea what cruel a fate awaited him. My appearance was proof to him that his gods were the true ones, and it made his obsession grow larger as a result.   
  
Not all Asgardians meant for her to die. One Freyja had meant to protect her, but from what I had gathered, the marks caused their own fair bit of trouble. They had driven these people to venerate her and protect her, but others were not able to resist their pull. The ones who adhered to the gods the most were affected the worst, and from there it could go either way. Somehow I felt like Fela had used them to benefit her, even though she wasn’t aware of it. For all I knew, she could have drawn in Erlendur herself in a moment of weakness.   
  
“She thinks of you often, but you must remember. The way to her heart is to make her trust you. Listen to her, get her to talk and don’t offer advice unless she asks for it. Ask her how she feels. Keep to your agreements, no matter the cost. She loves you, but she loves Bjorn for the children he gave her. You’ll have to give it your all to make her forget about her family.” He would never succeed. Aslaug had told me all about Fela’s brief stint with Erlendur. As soon as he realized, he would get desperate and decimate her loved ones for me. And I would be the one to put a stop to it, to offer her a way out. I would emerge as her hero, and I would be all she had left.   
  
Then we could finally destroy the marks on her skin, maybe even have her looks and wings restored. If I were able to give it up freely, I would protect her with my life. Only by the hands of our brethren could we die, and that had been a hard lesson to learn, for all of us.   
  
Michael had cut through Lucifer’s sister with such ease, and the grief it had caused Lucifer was the reason we had been able to turn their rebellion around. Father had been glad to point to Lucy as the instigator, naming all women the decay of virtuous men. It had spared Lucifer’s life, but he still held a grudge. That I could understand. Fela would face the same fate.   
  
“She is free to take her time, of course. I understand that it takes time for Ragnhild to love someone as fiercely as I want her to love me, and I won’t let her down. Nor you, of course.” He would have to be stronger than I thought he was, if he meant what he said. Chances were that he would rape her in his desire to be with her.   
  
I had become just as bad as Michael. But if it meant she would come back… I needed her, facing eternity without her was worse than falling from Grace myself. Having to face our siblings without her by my side, never hear her complain about her day only to go back on her words mere seconds after, the face she made when eating lemons but insisting that she liked them… She always knew how to make me smile, she knew what it was like to be second only to Michael and Michaela. She was more than a sister. She was my friend, my ally, my confidante. Without each other, our lives lacked color.   
  
Erlendur didn’t dare look me in the eye too long. Though raised as a prince, he didn’t know how to behave in front of a god. I could grow to like this kind of power. For all our talk of serving our Father selflessly, we were prone to sin all the same.   
  
“You would do well to treat her with the respect she deserves, Erlendur. But getting her away from the sons of Ragnar is what matters most. Succeed, and you will reach Valhalla together, when the time comes.” His eyes betrayed him, speaking of love, and desire, and most of all lust. What a despicable mortal. All he could think with was his dick. “I must go back.” Without waiting for his response I walked off, leaving Erlendur to travel further north. By foot it should take him at least two months if he had to avoid any form of civilization.   
  
Back in Kattegat, Fela was out with the twins. Sigurd was already waiting for her inside, sitting at the table with a cup of water, and his eyes went wide as he saw me come in. He tried to look brave, but he was scared of me. All for the better.   
  
“Hello, Sigurd. I was hoping I would find you here. I need to have a serious talk with you, about your auntie.” He kept silent as I sat down, leaning back as if to shy away from me. “We talked, when you were off to pet your goat. Do you know what she told me?” He had the audacity to pout at me, as if that would stop me.   
  
“Auntie will be back soon.” If she was off to the market, it could be a few hours. She was fond of spending too much time there, for some reason.   
  
“Then I’ll take all the time we have to speak, like men. Your auntie told me that she doesn’t like it when you cling to her all the time. You know I speak the truth, right? Your mother always listens to me because of it.” The boy was somewhere between crying and throwing a temper tantrum.   
  
“You’re lying,” he said with a quivering voice.   
  
“Oh, no I’m not. Do you remember what’s on that blanket? The one your brother loves so much?” His nodding was barely noticeable. “Well, your auntie has somewhere else to be. And if you don’t do as I say, she’ll go to a very special place. Do you want to know why?”   
  
Sigurd’s breathing grew labored. The lad was in way over his head, he wouldn’t be able to bring out a word edgewise anymore. He sat frozen in fear, his blood wouldn’t help him now.   
  
“She doesn’t want to be here if you don’t start accepting me. That means you have to do what I say, when I say it. Is that clear?” I bashed a fist on the table. Sigurd almost fell off his seat. “I said, is that clear!” He nodded, eyes wide in terror, tears lining his lashes. “Good,” I said in a pleasant voice again, then sat down. “I don’t want to be mean, but if you refuse to help me like a good little boy, I will have to be mean again. You don’t want that, do you?” As a tear rolled down his face, he shook his little head.   
  
“I don’t want auntie to go,” he mumbled.   
  
“Then you will do as I say, won’t you? Sigurd?”   
  
“I will.” Fela would kill me if she ever caught me talking to her boy like this.   
  
“That’s a brave little Viking. Now, let’s see if you’re telling the truth, shall we? Do you know if your auntie has a book? Do you know what that is? Can you get it for me?” The boy stood up, looking ashen. He walked over to the chest that held that ridiculous blanket and dug around, coming back with a stack of them. I hadn’t known that she kept on writing about her day.   
  
“Do you need more?” he asked.   
  
“This will do for now… Let me see them.” He brought them over, barely able to lift them all up to the table. As I leafed through the first one I realized it wasn’t her handwriting. The ink was faded, the cover was crappy, this wasn’t hers. But… It was Scripture. Somehow she had gotten her hands on religious texts? Was this the sign I was looking for?   
  
The next book was an old bible, filled with mistranslations and half the pages missing. The other two were useless as well. As I went through the stash, Sigurd stood by my side.   
  
“She got those from the priest, Assel…”   
  
“Athelstan. Your mother told me about him. She got these books from him. I’m looking for one that’s hers, she told me about it. It looks like nothing you have ever seen before, or anyone for that matter. It came with her.” He tried to walk off, but I cleared my throat and pointed at the books with my eyes. Sigurd cleared them away before he went over to one of the shelves in the kitchen, almost disappearing out of sight, then came back with what looked like a heavily damaged book. As the boy handed it over, I saw the barcode. This was it, her diary. All of her secrets would soon be mine.   
  
“Does this mean auntie gets to stay now?” I raised an eyebrow, seeing hope and desperation written on his face. Loki was right, this boy was so easily manipulated.   
  
“For now… But you will have to keep on doing as I say. She will leave if you don’t. But you can’t tell her, or she will go away without even saying goodbye. Can you imagine how much that would hurt? Then your brothers and father will know that you’re to blame, and they will hate you.” I was tearing the boy apart. Michael might have been right about wanting to soften Fela up, but this only worked counterproductively. I got up and stared at the boy, knowing I would need to scare him so badly, he wouldn’t even breathe my name in front of her.   
  
“Where will she go?” he asked.   
  
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. You’ll never see her again, not even in death.” I rolled my shoulders so my wings came out, as did my robes. “Do you understand now, Sigurd? You need to keep quiet, or the gods will be very, very mad at you, and your family.” He glanced at the door behind me, his bottom lips shaking. He chose to run for the bed and hid underneath the furs. “You had better be out from under there and out of her house by the time Ragnhild returns. Is that understood?”   
  
“Yes, Harbard.” I could hear he was crying, but I didn’t care. I had my errand boy, and Fela’s diary. Whatever secrets she had entrusted in there, they were mine now. I would get her back, and I would kill all those that opposed me.   
  
“I’ll know when you defy me, Sigurd. Don’t disappoint your auntie. She won’t forgive you.” 


	118. The Ties That Bind Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-06-803

Helga's birth was a breeze compared to mine. She only had one child to deliver, and my brother knew just how to make it as comfortable as possible for her. Aside from the trouble he would cause if Ragnar found out what he'd done here, he helped Kattegat thrive with each passing day he was here. Even Vinh was impressed and didn't force her way into it when she was caught with a cold that left her bedridden.

"It's a girl," he told us as he held her up to see. She was perfect, covered in blood and white goo, but still a pink little piece of perfection.

"You did it," I said with a smile. "Congratulations."

"Let me hold her..." As soon as Helga held her child in her arms she started to weep, but now it were tears of joy. "Thank you, Harbard. You have given me such a wonderful gift." He only showed a soft smile as he cut the umbilical cord.

"The gods did not intend for me to keep my gifts to myself. I am happy to share them."

"Thank you, Harbard." We locked eyes, sharing a knowing.

"I'll tell the queen to prepare the necessary sacrifices, and get us all a drink to celebrate." He went off, leaving me with my friend and some of the servants. As much as they wanted to see the baby as well, there were things that needed to be done, so I put them to work. Helga wasn't part of the family as I had been, or Siggy, but after all the help she had given us no one dared deny Helga was entitled to the luxury of birthing in the great hall. It was because of her husband that we had managed to raid Paris, and for Ragnar to travel to England in the first place. It was because of her that we held our own children in our arms.

"You were right about him," Helga whispered. "He knew exactly what to do, and he was so calm about it all. How did you know?" I just smiled, knowing I couldn't explain to her that he was my twin. Over the years I had mostly told her about the bad stories, hoping to make it easier for myself to deal with never seeing him again. If I were to tell her the truth, she would freak out. As it was, he had helped Helga through an almost effortless birth, and for that alone, I was happy to keep it a secret.

Sigurd came in, looking as if he wasn't sure if he could. A smile put him at ease.

"Do you want to come see the baby?" Helga asked.

"Everyone's happy about this baby," he said sullenly as he came closer. It was almost a complaint.

"People were scared that I would lose one of the twins, so they were afraid to start loving them," I explained. "But since they have their names the twins make everyone happy as well." His pout told me he didn't really believe that.

"Would you like to hold her?" Sigurd just stared at the baby, not making a move. He was getting more mopey lately, and I had no idea how to handle it. He clung to me even more, and I felt like it had something to do with Jozef being around so long.

"Would you like me to hold you?" I asked. He found a spot beside me, and as I wrapped my arms around him, Helga and I shared a look. Sigurd knew I wasn't his mother, he was old enough to understand that now. But he didn't know why his real mother ignored him, or why his crippled brother was getting all of her attention. All he heard was how cripples would never be real men, and weren't worthy of the love their mother gave them. And as he wasn't getting any love from his mother, he must have been worse off than a cripple.

It was flawed logic, but a child his age didn't care about that. He felt bad about being left out, and that was the message that came with it. It was so much like how I felt growing up. I could always feel like something was wrong, but what that was, exactly... He needed someone in his life he could depend on, but with Ragnar off and Aslaug clinging to Ivar that meant it fell to me. There weren't any child protective services here. I couldn't force Aslaug to take better care of her son, or make her see reason. And in that regard, I was part of the problem.

Aslaug would always tell me I was doing a fantastic job with him. Me taking care of him made sure she had time to coddle Ivar even more. It was true, and I couldn't go against it. I might have stopped taking care of Sigurd the way I did, but that would only damage him more. All I could do was try and limit the damage she inflicted on the poor boy.

"Ragnhild..." Helga knew this too and thought I should focus on my own children. But as far as I was concerned, I was still responsible for him, and not just because of my deal with Ragnar. The boys had saved my life once, and I wouldn't let one of them down because I was busy. I might've stopped working for Aslaug in her capacity as the queen, but Sigurd was family now, and I knew I was doing the right thing.

"I know, Helga. I know. I'm caught between two worlds."

"Harbard left with mother," Sigurd muttered. "She told me you should take care of Ivar." I knew it. The secret smiles, the fluttering eyelashes, Aslaug was head over heels for my brother. And he was more than happy to go along with it.

"Well, if Ivar needs me he will call out I'm sure. Until then I'd rather watch Helga's daughter. Doesn't she look beautiful?" He didn't even look at her. If I didn't know any better, it was like he was afraid I would leave him, too. "Do you remember how small the twins were? This one's almost a giant in comparison. Maybe she will become a Jotünn when she grows up."

"Babies can't become Jötnar," Sigurd said as if I was telling him the world was round. "The Jötnar only destroy things." He was feeling a bit more comfortable now and didn't protest after I let him go. I was dying to hold Helga's baby in my arms, even if it was to clean her off a little.

"Oh, but then you have not heard of Angrboda. Surely you know of Loki's mistress." Sigurd had barely heard me talk of the gods before, not as a story. Whenever he went to bed I would tell him of other stories that meant to comfort him and get him through the night. He didn't need life lessons, he needed to know he was safe and loved. As the girl fussed in my arms, protesting me cleaning the blood off her tiny body, I got a curious look from Helga as well.

"Tell me the story, auntie. It's rude to make us wait, you always say that." I could've told about the history of boats and he would have hung at my lips. Angrboda was known as a terrible giantess. She had birthed Jorgundmandr, Fenrir, and Hel. Because of that she was frequently called a monster, but to me, her tale was one of sorrow and determination.

After the Æsir took away her children she tried to get them back, but she was slain on sight when she reached Asgard, for the crime of having borne monsters. She was a victim of circumstance and romance gone bad, and I could very much relate to that. As I told of her hardships, Sigurd took in the girl for the first time, but he didn't dare touch her just yet.

"I've never heard it told from her side," Helga said with a tired smile. "Did you hear it from Harbard?"

"He told me a lot of stories with her in it, and I puzzled it together from there."

"That's..." Wrong, not our way, a grievous offense to the gods... "Impressive. I remembered all you spoke of, but I hadn't put it together like that before."

"I liked it," Sigurd agreed, "but it was too short." He thought all stories that weren't as long as Star Wars were short. Most of the story consisted of elaborate biographies of the characters and descriptions of how it all looked, but the promise of hidden realms between the stars was enough for any young boy to escape the constant death and sorrow that inexplicably came every time the nights were longer than the days.

"I'm glad you liked it. Would you mind fetching one of the servants? I think it's time for Helga to get some sleep, and she'll want clean bedding for that." He eagerly got up and went off to find one of the girls. Without Jozef around, he was an entirely different child.

"Did you know about Harbard and Aslaug?" Helga asked as she put her daughter to her breast.

"He was here last year, yes. I was sure Aslaug wouldn't do it again. Not with Sigurd around, I warned them both." We fell silent as Sigurd came running back, looking ashen. In the background, I heard the doors to the hall close.

"Do you look forward to having Helga over for a bit?" I tried to distract him, but Harbard's voice drifting through the hall kept Sigurd silent. "I'm excited about it, she knows a lot of great stories as well. She helped me with the twins, do you remember? She was amazing then, and now it's our turn to be amazing for her. Can I count on you to help me out a little? I need a man for some things." He nodded, even though he had a pout on his face.

"I'm sure you will be able to help Ragnhild, and me," Helga added. The boy looked so insecure and sad, it hurt to see. Still, I got up to change Helga's bedding myself. I didn't want to leave him alone when he was this distraught, me doing anything at all where he was made me feel like a bad auntie.

"Well, isn't this a pretty image! Two of my favorite women in Kattegat, looking happy as two birds." I swallowed as I heard Jozef come in. "Let's see how that afterbirth is looking, shall we?" Hadn't he taken care of that yet? Helga's wounds needed to be taken care of, she could get a nasty infection if that wasn't dealt with as soon as possible. He was the one to teach me, it was only because of him that I knew how to assist with giving birth in the first place.

"Sigurd and I will bring it out," I said before Jozef could take that upon himself as well. It would be good for him to get away from my brother for a while, but I was equally worried about Jozef not adhering to the proper ritual involved. Bjorn had never specified, but I imagined it was important for someone to do it who held to our faith. I wasn't too sure about my brother in that regard.

"Nonsense, that's the best part to me! I will do it, if Helga would allow me the honor." Pretending everything was fine, I smiled.

"How could I not? I'm sure Ragnhild will cleanse the child for me." I nodded as I watched my brother take care of Helga. In allowing Harbard to take out the afterbirth, Helga confirmed that she thought Harbard would be around long enough for my brother to protect the girl until she became a woman. Sigurd busied himself getting all the things I would need for the cleansing, making sure to avoid Jozef's gaze at all times.

"Sigurd?" He froze, then slowly turned to face Harbard. "Are you afraid of me? There's nothing to fear. I may be loud at times, but I promise I mean you no harm." He clutched my legs. Jozef looked up at me, hoping to find some answers. He seemed genuinely troubled with how Sigurd was behaving.

"He's right, little man. Harbard knows many stories and songs, and you love those."

"I like yours better." Jozef sighed and got up.

"I'll see you tonight?" he asked me.

"Yes, I'll be eating here though."

"Then I'll come and find you after." He left without a further word, with the placenta wrapped in a cloth.

"Do you have to go?" I looked down at Sigurd, seeing he was heartbroken. I wanted to take away his worries, but this was proving to be too much for me alone.

"I have a lot to talk about with Harbard. But you have Helga here, and your mother, and Ivar..." It only made him hold onto me even tighter.

"Is there a reason you don't like Harbard? Did he do something to you?" Helga's question made me look up. My brother would never hurt a child. He knew what it was like to be abused,

"He always takes mother away, and auntie. I hate him." It hurt to hear him say it. I had so much in common with my brother, and him saying that made me fear there was a side to me that Sigurd would hate when he grew up.

"Well, he's gone now. Let's focus on Helga and her daughter, okay?" After changing Helga's bedding myself, we left her to get some rest. With the girl in my arms I went to check on my own babies, who were sleeping.

"Ah, there she is. May I?" Aslaug already had her arms extended, much to my annoyance. She didn't even look at Sigurd. It was like he was a blind spot to her, not even there. "I think your twins need to be changed, at least one of them smells."

"Then I've got my work set out for me." Happy as I was to be able to spend time with my brother again, I desperately needed to have Bjorn around as well. The raid was turning into a long one, despite the promise it would be relatively short.

The twins were already at home in their crib, fast asleep when Jozef came in. He looked cheerful, happy. I did my best to hide my anger, but as soon as I sat down I remembered how Bjorn had always encouraged me to speak of things when they were still fresh in our minds.

"You look lovely as usual, my fair Vessel." Jozef sat down as well, noticing something was wrong.

"Cut the crap," I spat. "You're sleeping with Aslaug again."

"I merely provided some comfort. She fears she is unable to get with child again, and hearing the baby being born made her sad." A good start for her would be to have sex with Ragnar again, but I bit back my comment. If the gods were cruel, she would get pregnant with my brother's child, and I had no desire to figure out how our family tree would look like, then.

"You promised. I'm trying so hard to get you to fit in here for when the men return, and you promised you wouldn't fuck her again. What if Ragnar finds out?" Jozef made his way to the shelves and got himself a mug of ale.

"It's been a tiring day. It was just the once. How did you even find out?"

"Sigurd saw you sneaking off." Jozef let out a tired sigh.

"I worry about him. He seems so... Distant. I just can't reach him. There's so much I recognize in him, it just hurts to see."

"I know what you mean. I can't do anything but let it happen and try to be there for him. But with the twins, and now Helga needing my help..."

"You're busy enough. Maybe I could try and talk to him." I was far from sure that would do any good. "Let me ease your suffering as well. You can't take care of everyone by yourself, you need someone to mind you. Let me play you a few songs." He already got up to get his guitar out.

"Just one," I warned him. I was loath to have the town know I was doing funny things with a stranger and songs again. "And make sure it's a soft one."

"I have just the one in mind." As he played a song I had forgotten half the words to I let myself relax. Jozef was just having some trouble fitting in here without causing a stir wherever he went, as it had gotten the town to get used to me. Besides, it had taken me a while to get the town to embrace me and my strange customs, as well. The twins were fresh reminders of that, I still got some weird looks whenever I would go anywhere with them in my arms. He had done his best to fit in here so far, and he was making so much progress with Ivar.

Jozef needed some time to adjust as well. From what he told me he had gone from place to place, depending on strangers to offer him a place to stay in exchange for stories, and songs. He had to save long and hard to get it.

"Sis?" My eyes flashed up to his. "I want to talk to you about something, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"What is it about?"

"The gods. Have you... Do you believe in them? I know how you feel about religion, and, well..."

"I know what you're asking. And I'm not sure what to tell you. I am still very much skeptical about a lot of details."

"Then you have reason to believe they are real?"

"Who else could bring us here? You heard Aslaug, she asked them to send us here. What am I to make of that?"

"But what they do, it makes no sense. Sacrifices? All those runes, and blood? It's barbaric."

"It's their way of life. You must have seen it for yourself, during your travels. It's hard, living here. And maybe it's not so bad to have something in our lives to guide us."

"You can't be serious. Have you forgotten what you were fighting about with dad all those years ago? You accused him of setting up that rape because you went against God." A cold shiver ran down my spine. I knew this conversation was going to happen soon, but I loved shoving it ahead of me.

"I don't want to talk about the past."

"But if he could see us now..."

"He's gone. He won't ever bother us again, why bring him up?"

"It's just that... Sometimes I worry about how we'll ever get back." Going back? Where would he get such an idea?

"I have no intention of doing that, ever. I'm happy here. I have children, and a husband."

"You'll die before you're fifty. You don't owe these people anything."

"I owe them my life."

"Because they spared you? They were just using you for information, you told me so yourself. Don't tell me this is a repeat of what happened with Tom."

"As much as I love having you in my life again, you are making a lot of assumptions. Don't I look happier than ever? Am I not doing useful things with my life? You don't know what it's been like for me. You have no right to judge me." Jozef remained silent, taking me in for a second, then focused back on his guitar. He strummed the strings, making me slam my hand on the table between us.

"Jozef!"

"Shh!" He looked panicked all of a sudden. "You mind calling me Harbard like you said you would? Geez, get a grip. I was just thinking for a bit." He was right, I had to be more careful. "You can't risk living like this for much longer. Can't you see how dangerous it is? They will sacrifice you to their gods if they ever find out where you came from."

"Like Aslaug did?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You know she's not the sharpest tool in the shed. What if Ragnar finds out, or Bjorn?" Bjorn already knew, but Ragnar... How would he take it? He had enough clues to figure it out if he really set his mind to it. If he came across the wanderer again, he might just...

"I know what I'm doing. I made it this far, and I know Ragnar trusts me." I caught Jozef staring at me playing with my wedding ring and stopped.

"But for how long? Do you think he will accept me staying here without any consequences?"

"I'll handle Ragnar," I spat. I could take on a king... "You just worry about Aslaug and keeping her at a safe distance. If Ragnar finds out that you've been sleeping with her again he may not be as forgiving as I hope him to be. Then it's both our asses on the line."

"Then I'm very much dependent on how well you can convince him. Are you sure you are up for that?" Had I given him reason to doubt me?

"You'll have to trust me."

"You've never been good at picking people to trust."

"I changed. You know that. I got past my insecurities, and my depression." It wasn't like this was a repeat of what happened with Erlendur. I could trust my family, as long as Jozef did his part he could stay here with us. Tiresome as he could be, he was my only connection to my past, aside from my diary and the knives I had brought with. Jozef had come here in his bathing suit, he had nothing but me.

"Then why do I feel like you're just settling for what is handed to you?" I tried to keep from screaming, but a voice in the back of my head told me he knew me better than anyone. I'd always been blind to my own needs, and he knew that. He might've pointed me towards it rather clumsily, but that didn't mean his words weren't true. "My sweet sister... You used to dream so big. You wanted to become an astronaut, even though you're too small for it. You wanted to travel the world, become a writer, and a painter, even though you sucked at drawing. What happened? Do you really think this is all you can achieve? Be a stay-at-home mom so your husband can do all that you wanted in life?"

"What else is there for me? They have no art here, or a written language. I love Bjorn, and I love my children. I have friends here, and family, and a calling. It's all I ever wanted."

"But will that be enough? Won't you regret not trying to go back? You said so yourself, you're not the same person anymore. You wouldn't let an asshole control your life anymore. You wouldn't take shit from anyone. We're still young, we could start over back home." I shook my head in disbelief.

"You make it sound like you've already found a way. Don't tell me these things if you can't make them happen. Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you, you know that. I'm just worried that you're lying to yourself. If there was a way to bring us here, there must be a way to get back, as well."

"I'd still be leaving my children behind," I snapped. Jozef leaned back, not wanting to antagonize me further.

"Forget I asked." He sighed, then put on a smile. "How about I cook tonight? You go rest a bit."


	119. Coming To Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 28-07-803

Thormund was bouncing around on my lap with a big smile on his face. I held him tight, not wanting him to fall off, but the joy in his huge eyes brought a smile to my face as well.

"Why is he doing that?" Sigurd asked. He didn't understand much of how babies grew up, only having Ivar as an example.

"He's training, actually. He can't stand up yet because he needs to strengthen his muscles, so he bounces around to get stronger."

"But Siggy doesn't do that. Shouldn't they do everything together?"

"Siggy isn't ready for that yet. That's okay. They will do plenty of things together, and they have to do things in their own time sometimes. I remember you bouncing around a lot as well, you loved it." Sigurd found that hard to believe.

"It looks weird. The bells are ringing." That had to be Bjorn, come back from England. After all those months, it was about time.

"You don't sound happy. Aren't you looking forward to seeing your brothers and father again?" He just shrugged. "Do you want to go out to meet them?"

"Not really."

"Don't you have a lot to tell them?"

"They won't care."

"But you started training with a shield. That's a big deal, Sigurd."

"They did it, too." I was starting to wonder if anything would ever make him feel happy again. Even my stories seemed to have lost their wonder lately.

"It's important to you, so it'll be important to them. You know they care about you. They just don't always know how to show it." I sat Thormund down on my lap and put an arm around Sigurd, taking in a deep breath. He was almost five, but the way he talked... I felt out of my depths. "It's okay if you want to stay here, but I want to go out to the beach." I had to tell Ragnar and Bjorn about my brother. If someone else told Ragnar, he would fly into a fit of rage. I got up and picked up Siggy as well. Now they were old enough to keep their heads up on their own it was easier to get around without help.

With the twins on my hips I saw I wasn't the first to stand there waiting for a loved one. Helga was craning her neck, Angrboda in her arms, eager to show off her little girl to Floki. Soon Aslaug joined me as well, Ivar on her arms. The boy was feeling a lot better now that Jozef was able to help him more.

"He's in the back of the hall, he knows to wait there," she whispered.

"Good," I said. "I'll tell them, you focus on the boys."

"I know the plan, Ragnhild, you don't have to constantly remind me."

"I'm nervous as shit, I always talk when I'm nervous."

"I know that, too."

"Auntie, what plan?" I looked down and saw Sigurd standing beside me. Had he deliberately stood beside me instead of next to Aslaug? As soon as we'd dealt with the whole Jozef situation, I'd have to have a serious talk with Ragnar. This couldn't go on like this for much longer. I might have to start working on a way to get Sigurd to come live with me and Bjorn, over the past few weeks Sigurd had only gotten worse.

"Nothing to worry about, sweety. Your mother and I were talking about the feast for tomorrow night." Sigurd obviously didn't believe me, but I didn't have time to go back to the hall, make him understand, and then be back in time. "I'll tell you later, okay?" Sigurd chose to ignore me and sank down on his haunches, tracking a twig through the mulled sand.

"Why do the boys call you Auntie?" Aslaug asked. That was a question long overdue.

"It started out with just Hvitserk, he was a bit confused that I took care of him, and also married his brother. I tried explaining it to them, but somehow they like it. I don't mind. I never thought I'd be an aunt to begin with."

"Surely, the way your..."

"I do not want to think about that, or that with you, or anything related to that. It still grosses me out." My brother having had sex with Aslaug... Repeatedly... While he knew how I was connected to her... Even over the past summer... It was enough to make my stomach churn.

"Here they come!" Aslaug said as Helga took off, trying to get Ivar to react. Bjorn and Ragnar came walking towards us, but Ubbe and Hvitserk ran up to us first. They were all unharmed, from the looks of it, lifting a weight off my shoulders.

"Mother!" Ubbe had reached Aslaug first, and hugged her tight. Hvitserk took a more tactical approach and clutched one of Aslaug's legs, and one of mine.

"It's so good to see you again, Hvitserk! We missed you so much." With the twins on my hips it was a bit hard to hug him tight, so I kept standing up. Ragnar went to pick up Sigurd, which I took to be a good sign.

"You're looking good," Bjorn said before he kissed me. He took Thormund from my arms and held him close. Now I had an arm free I slung it across Bjorn's back.

"I missed you, but we have to go to the hall, now. There's an issue we need to deal with before anyone else finds out." Bjorn shot me a surprised look.

"What do you mean, Harbard's here?" I heard Ragnar say. My eyes shot up to Ragnar. Sigurd must have told him.

"Ragnar, no." It was no use. He put Sigurd down on the sand and started pacing towards the hall, fast. Without turning back to Bjorn I sped after him, trying to refrain from running. If anyone came after us, it was all for nothing.

"Ragnhild..." Bjorn was close behind me. "Is it true? Is Harbard here?"

"It's not what you think," I said, close to panic. "He's my brother," I added in Dutch.

"What?!" We rushed to the great hall, barely seeing Ragnar move behind the curtains that hid my brother. As soon as the servants saw me they got out, closing the door behind us.

"Ragnar!" I yelled. Siggy started crying when I burst out in a sprint, but I couldn't slow down. He would kill Jozef. "Ragnar, stop!"

"You fucking rat!" I could hear a punch landing.

"Bjorn, stop him!" With Thormund still in his arms Bjorn rushed past the curtains, and all I could hear was how men grunted and fought. When I pulled back the curtain I saw Bjorn trying to restrain Ragnar with one arm, who was still trying to get to Jozef. I fell down over my brother, Siggy crying in my arms, while I faced Ragnar.

"He's my brother," I said in an angry voice. "He came here when I did." Ragnar became so confused his anger fell away. As I tried to calm Siggy down, I turned to Jozef and checked out his wound. The punch had landed on his jaw. "Are you okay?" I asked in Dutch. "I only heard it."

"That son of a bitch... You told me he'd be calm!" He brushed aside my hand and slowly got to his feet.

"Sigurd told him before I had the chance. I came after him as fast as I could." I rose as well, still worried for my brother. He wasn't bleeding as far as I could see, but that punch had been right on the money.

"You had better have a damn good reason for wanting me to be calm, Ragnhild," Ragnar spoke with anger. With a pissed off brother, Siggy crying in my arms and all the other things that had managed to stress me out lately, I was quick to lose my temper.

"Pipe the fuck down! Grab some ale, sit down, I'll be right with you." Siggy was still fussing, she needed me first.

"And you expect us to talk things over quietly? Anyone could walk in here at any moment."

"No, they won't. Aslaug and I made sure of that. The servants are all out, and anyone wanting to come in here will be redirected elsewhere. It seems someone dropped hot coals everywhere and we have to clean up first. Now shut the fuck up!" I pushed Siggy into his arms, forcing him to calm down. Within seconds he was rocking her around, holding her close to his chest.

"You can't talk to me like that, Ragnhild."

"If you insist on acting like a child, I will treat you like a child. I have had it with this shit, I am fucking tired and I want to get this over with." I turned to Jozef and looked him dead in the eye. "That goes for you, too. You slept with his wife, of course he's pissed off. Did you really think he'd invite you for tea?"

"He fucking hit me! Ragnar fucking Lothbrok hit me in the fucking face!" I switched to Dutch, knowing exactly what it was he meant.

"Don't get your fucking panties in a bunch, keep that fucking history boner to yourself. I've got a million fucking things I'd rather do, so sit your fucking bony ass down and be grateful Bjorn pulled him off in time."

"I can see the family resemblance," Bjorn muttered. I ignored his comment and went into the hall, sitting down with an exasperated sigh.

"Get us some drinks," I told my brother. "You have had no trouble finding the barrels." Ragnar was still very displeased with the way I'd spoken to him, but I had reached my limit. Bjorn sat down next to his father, leaving a spot for Jozef to sit next to me.

"My brother came here two weeks after you left. I found out he came here the same day, only in Denmark. He spent his time traveling around, telling stories to survive. He goes by the name of Harbard, and yes, he's been here before. He found out I lived here then, that's why he came back. He wanted to see me, and check how I was doing."

"Then why is he still here? We've been gone for moons."

"Because Aslaug and I didn't know what to do, so we wanted to wait for you to come back. Also, we had a lot of catching up to do. Last he knew I was trying to kill myself. And no, he's not touched her again. He has been sleeping at his own place."

"So now what?" Ragnar asked. "You expect me to forgive him and accept him as part of your family?" Judging by his face, that wouldn't happen before Helheim froze over.

"I expect you to not kill him, or hurt him. Give him a chance, that's all I ask."

"Was he sent here by the gods as well?" Bjorn asked. He was so confused he needed a moment to calm down himself before he could work his magic on my mind. I desperately needed to be alone with him for a bit, to feel the calm he could give me with just a touch and a look. I'd probably fall asleep the moment I calmed down.

"I don't know," I answered. "He has no markings, but he came here in pretty much the same way."

"And why would I not kill him?" Ragnar asked.

"You think I want to be here?" Jozef said all of a sudden. He was on board with the plan, he was just throwing oil onto the fire at this point. What was he trying to do?

"Enough!" I hissed. "My brother can help treat Ivar so he won't be in pain all the time. Is the quality of life for your son not more important than the fact he slept with your wife? Ivar's never done so well. He can sleep through the night now, and sometimes he even smiles when you look at him." Ragnar sighed deep, obviously still seething.

"So you want me to trust this... Harbard... The same way I trust you?" he asked.

"I expect you to at least consider letting him stay here for a while. If only to help Ivar."

"You already seem to know what you want," Bjorn said. "Why did you bother waiting for us to return?"

"Because of that," I said, nodding my head towards Jozef and Ragnar. "I don't want them to be at each other's throat all the time. And I figured that whatever we do, we need to decide on what to tell the rest. Especially because of the company you keep." Bjorn understood me. If Harald and Halfdan were to see us fighting amongst ourselves, they might take advantage of that. There was a bigger picture, and I wanted to make sure Jozef wouldn't become a problem.

"What does he know?"

"Nothing." Bjorn nodded at that.

"It seems your sister had put quite some thought into this," Ragnar told Jozef. "No doubt she has a plan for how to go about this already." He turned to me, anger and irritation flashing across his eyes.

"I have," I admitted. We'd had to come up with a story for the rest of the town as soon as Harbard came back, I just needed to let Ragnar think it was something he could agree on. "We keep it secret that he's my brother. He's a travelling healer who happens to also be named Harbard. You ran off because you thought it was the one from before. You'll invite him to stay here as he's helped Ivar so much. We can decide for how long later. And if it doesn't work out you can always kick him out. Just give this a chance."

"That sounds reasonable, father." We all looked at Ragnar, who seemed ready to burst a vein.

"If he does anything, and I mean anything, out of line I'll hold you responsible. You better be damn sure about this." Only when he got up and left, Siggy still in his arms, did I allow myself to sigh and relax a bit. I felt Jozef put a hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you, sis."

"Ragnhild. Don't slip up. If you think this means you're safe, you're a bigger fool than me for even trying to make this work. Come on, let's open up the hall to the others. The coals are all taken care of." I got up and walked towards the doors to open them up wide. Within seconds people started pouring in. I saw Aslaug looking at me, and I gave her a curt nod. My attention was drawn by Harald and Halfdan, who were both happy to see me.

"Ragnhild! Were you really that clumsy? It seems you can't do everything after all, haha!" I laughed along, cursing Aslaug in my mind for making this all my fault. Just what I needed today.

"Harald! Good to see you, how are things?"

"Fantastic, we have so much to tell you."

"And you?" I asked, turning to Halfdan.

"Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me," he said with a big grin. He had actually kept telling his demons to fuck off. I chalked that up to be good news. The gods knew I could use some.

"In that case, you can go get us some drinks. I just spent half an hour cleaning, I think I've deserved one." Halfdan shook his head, but went to get us some drinks anyway. Harald and I moved away from the opening, allowing others to enter a bit more easily. We sat down at a table, and Halfdan was quick to join us.

"What have you been up to?" Halfdan asked.

"I convinced a wanderer to stay here for a while. He has a real gift, he took away most of Ivar's pain. It was incredible to see."

"Ragnar's cripple boy? He's still alive?"

"He is. I have no doubt he'll survive childhood. I'd keep an eye on that boy, he might surprise you one day." Behind Halfdan I could see Ubbe and Hvitserk, seeming unsure if they could join. I waved them over and they sat beside me. I wrapped my arms around them and hugged them tight. "I missed you two! How was it? Did you kill anyone?"

"We had to stay in the camp all the time," Ubbe pouted. "We never even saw a battle."

"I didn't see any fighting my first time, either," I offered.

"Yeah, but you're old." Harald and Halfdan snickered at that.

"Excuse me?"

"You're even older than Bjorn."

"Six years! That's my age! I thought you were the same age," Hvitserk said, looking almost terrified.

"And why should that matter?"

"Because... I don't know. Usually the man is older than the woman."

"Well, you know I'm a bit different. Before I came here I was with a man who was ten years older than me."

"Really? You never told us that." And for good reason. It was easier for me to talk about it having discussed it with Jozef a lot, but I still didn't like who I was back then.

"It's a bit sad, to be honest. I was with him for two years, then he died when he fell of his horse while he was drunk."

"Do you miss him?"

"No. He was an asshole." I turned back to Harald, cutting off the subject. "How about that land? Did you manage to make a deal with Ecbert?"

"We did," Harald answered. "We ended up fighting for some bitch from Mercia, while Lagertha stayed back to help establish the settlement. They sowed the first crop right before we left. Lagertha decided to stay there for a while longer."

"Why would she stay in England?" I would've thought she'd want to return to Hedeby soon to consolidate her rule. She had been able to fight off Erlendur, but still... He wasn't caught yet. There must have been another reason for her to stay.

"Only for a week or three. She had some unfinished business."

"Ragnhild," I heard Bjorn say. "You want to head home?" I looked up at him. He wore a pleasant smile, but I knew there was something else he wanted.

"That sound pretty good. I'll go find Ragnar to see where Siggy's at."

"I just saw him, he told me she's already at home." He left my daughter there alone?

"Alright, let's get going then." I got up and said goodbye to everyone and put my arm around Bjorn as we left. With all that had been going on ever since the men got back I almost forgot how much I missed my husband.

"How have you been holding up?" Bjorn asked as we made our way home.

"I've had a lot to deal with. Not just Harbard, even though he did cause a lot of stress. Angrboda is still a terror at night, don't let those eyes deceive you. And Sigurd... He needs things I can't give him, and it hurts me to see how badly he's hurt."

"Didn't Aslaug step up?"

"She was too preoccupied with Ivar, and spent a lot of time with Harbard. It was difficult to come up with a plan to get all of this smoothed out, they were constantly eager to change the details. And then the twins..."

"I noticed you're a bit stressed." That was a careful way of putting it.

"It all would have been fine if Harbard hadn't been here, don't feel guilty for going on that raid. I'm sure Ragnar needed you more than I did."

"But I'm not married to him, I'm married to you." I opened up the door and saw Siggy peacefully asleep in the crib. Bjorn put Thormund next to her and we stood next to them for a moment, basking in their beauty and peacefulness. If only I could sleep like that for a night.

"So, Jozef... From what you told me before, we have to be careful around him."

"He's changed for the better since then. I don't trust him fully, but enough to give him a chance."

"What was that you said about him getting hard? I didn't want to ask where he was around to hear."

"Oh, that... Yeah, there's something I need to tell you. Jozef was well versed in Viking history and filled in some of the blanks. Apparently no one knows whether Ragnar really existed. He's turned into a legend, and no one had any proof if he really existed."

"People will know his name after all that time?"

"He's not the only one. Bjorn Ironside has quite a few achievements to his name, as well."

"Good ones, I hope?" I bit my lip, not wanting to think about it, but not wanting to lie either.

"Before I tell you, remember that the future as I know it has probably changed a lot already, especially where the Viking are concerned. Jozef told me you will be the first Viking to travel to the Mediterranean. According to the stories, you sail all the way to Italy."

"Italy? That's where the pasta comes from, right?"

"Not for at least another six hundred years. But that's not all. You... marry a princess. A real one, with a king for a father." Bjorn remained silent for a while, then wrapped his arms around me.

"I know it must have hurt you to hear that. But believe me, as far as I'm concerned, you're the only one I could ever want to be with. And you're a real princess as well, don't forget that. You married a king's son."

"That's not the same. She was a princess because she was a king's daughter."

"Where from?"

"I don't know. My brother couldn't remember. Not from Scandinavia, in any case. But there's plenty of other things they got wrong. In my time they seem to believe Ubbe was Ragnar's eldest sons, and you're a son by Aslaug as well."

"And you really tried to convince me writing things down is better than telling your children?" Bjorn chuckled at the wrong information my time held to be true. I just sighed and leaned into him. I didn't have the energy to explain the mistakes were probably made because the stories hadn't been written down until centuries after he would die.

"It feels so good to have you back. I didn't think it would be so long."

"We got dragged into a campaign for Mercia, some dumb bitch wanted to become queen."

"I want to hear all about it, but right now I really want to lie in bed and hold you close."

"Your wish is my command, princess." I smacked at Bjorn's chest.

"You know I hate it when you call me that." He pulled me in for a sweet and loving kiss. I got undressed and lay down in the bed, Bjorn following shortly after. We cuddled for a few minutes, but I soon drifted off to sleep. At least for today, everything was fine.


	120. Enemy Of The State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 28-08-803

As things had settled down a bit, I made my way up to the Seer. I'd wanted to come and visit earlier, but between the twins and trying to keep Jozef and Ragnar apart... Even Bjorn wasn't as supportive as I'd hoped. Now I finally had an afternoon off, I enjoyed the quiet of the forest. The leaves on the trees were starting to fall, turning the woods into a beautiful colored painting.

To me, the walk was way too short. I could have spent hours kicking through the leaves, feeling the warm sun on my face. It had been ages since I had time to relax in the sun. I pushed open the door and went inside.

"Hi, am I interrupting?"

"It's getting a bit late for that." I had thought to just be polite, so I was a little off-put by his response. I lowered myself to my knees before the Seer.

"What am I late for?" The Seer didn't deem to answer. I got a bit insecure because of his strange behavior. "Is this a bad time?" He just grunted.

"No, I can't." I felt a bit like I was talking to someone who was on the phone. "Well, which is it?" Would I wait, or just leave like nothing had happened? A part of me was intrigued what he was talking about... "That is not my decision to make." No, listening in was rude. I had obviously come at a bad time. I could come back later. It was preposterous to think the Seer always had time for people barging in. I got up and went for the door.

I could take a nice long walk instead, that would be lovely. Maybe there were still some flowers I could pick. The house could use something cheerful.

"Where are you going?" Was the Seer talking to me? "Yes, you. Come sit down. You have questions, don't you?"

"I do. You looked... busy." I sat down again.

"A Seer's work is never done."

"Who were you talking to?" I asked as I cocked my head. My curiosity took over despite my misgivings.

"Does it matter?" At least he admitted he was talking to someone, but I wasn't satisfied just yet.

"You were talking to the gods just now, weren't you?"

"How clearly you can see, sometimes. Yes, it was a god." I knew better than to ask which one and what about. Asking a question was free, but pushing was impolite. No one wanted to push the Seer into refusing to speak to you any longer. "What answers do you seek?"

"What have you seen for my brother? Will his presence here give me trouble?"

"Are you not here for yourself?" he asked.

"Not this time. I am mostly worried about him."

"How curious... Yes, your brother will change things, some for the better and some for the worse. Yet the change you should concern yourself with most is that of your own." Was he implying Jozef could be dangerous to me? With Ragnar's threat of me being responsible for everything he did, there were plenty of ways he could have a negative impact on my life.

"Is he a threat to my family?"

"What family are you referring to? Your questions are vague, and so will be my answers." It all depends on how you look at it, as always. But would Jozef cause more problems than he was worth?

"Will he deter me from what the gods have in store for me?"

"There are many roads to arrive at your destination." So... not necessarily? I could keep him from causing harm? Usually the Seer was easier to understand.

"Can I do anything to keep him from making a foolish mistake?" The Seer snickered, wheezing as he took a breath.

"Accept the path that has been laid out before you. We are all powerless before the gods." That wasn't an answer, to a clear question. Something was up with the Seer. Maybe I should push a bit further, to see what his deal was.

"Then what are the gods powerless before?"

"Do not ask questions you do not want the answer to, Ragnhild. You should know better by now."

"If you're reluctant to answer..."

"Too much truth is dangerous, I thought you knew that." He feared how I might respond to his answer. My imagination started running wild at the realization. There were some things the gods didn't hold power over, and my brother was a danger to my life here. Perhaps the gods didn't have any power over him and me, as we weren't from this time? Or perhaps they had no say over what happened in Kattegat? Were they powerless over how the future would be shaped? Did that mean they wanted me gone from this world? Or was I behind on schedule, whatever I was supposed to do? And how did my brother play into this? The gods must have had a plan for him, as well. "Already I have said too much."

"Then help me see things more clearly. What will my brother cause?"

"The same as you, my dear. You will bring forth chaos, change, and regret. I have seen that much." What was going on? Was he just having a bad day or something? In a sense he had never been more clear in his answers, but that only left me more confused. I had come here with the idea that the Seer might warn me about my brother, telling me Bjorn had been right, but now I was unsure of the gods and their might again.

He wouldn't tell me anything more about my brother. I saw no reason to take Bjorn's complaints seriously, and neither did I want to let things play out as they were.

"Alright then, tell me this. I've been having dreams about my father, and some other disturbing things. Having Bjorn around makes it less, but they still happen."

"And what question do you have about them? Or are you looking for one of those as well?" The Seer was known for his snarky comments, but this seemed like a bit much, even for him.

"Are they dreams?" The Seer wheezed, just shy of pointing and laughing at me.

"My, my. Don't you have quite the imagination. What makes you think they aren't dreams?"

"Because when I wake up, it feels like I should be remembering something. It's driving me insane, I can barely get enough rest to make it through the day. Please, can you tell me what they mean?" I had to find out, they were less now that Bjorn was here but I couldn't get well rested. This morning I woke up with a bruise on my neck, and as Bjorn saw me reach for it, he noticed my own hand fit the bruising.

"Then you have come here for yourself. You never lied to me before, not knowingly."

"I came here first and foremost to ask about my brother," I insisted. I'd just planned to wait for the weekend, not rush over today.

"Don't make it worse, Ragnhild. What do you dream of?"

"I dream of a ship. It's alone on the ocean, without sails, or oars… It just floats between the waves, aimlessly drifting off. But then a storm comes, slowly at first, then builds up to a hurricane. It comes for the boat, surrounds it, and piece by piece the ship gets torn apart. Rain beats down on the deck, debris flies around, and the walls of wind drain the air from my lungs. I'm not there, but I feel it. It's like I'm connected to the ship, and then this morning I woke up with this bruise." I lowered my scarf to show him, then realized I didn't even know for sure if he could see at all.

My hand found the bruise, feeling nothing out of the ordinary, but I knew there was a grayish tint to my skin there. I hadn't even woken up from it, nor had Bjorn.

"That's not a vision, it's barely a dream. Are you yourself not being torn apart? We spoke of dreams before, and we agreed that they reflect our worries and what else occupies our minds. You have a choice to make." Maybe he was right. I was reading too much into it and this was just a result of me being stressed. Last night had been strange, but my dreams were just a result of me talking about him so often with Jozef. If we stopped, maybe I would sleep a lot better.

"You're right. I just needed to hear it from someone else."

"Then you know what you will choose?"

"I'm not even aware that I have to make a choice, but I'm sure it will come to me in time. I know better than to force a prophecy to be true."

"I have a question for you, this time, as well." I looked up, taking in the Seer. He was a bit off this visit, so I shouldn't be that surprised. "You are a heretic, yes? You lost your faith in a false god?"

"That was long before I came here. I was raised to not know any better. Why do you ask?"

"Because I am curious to find out what this haevn is."

"Heaven? How do you even know about it?"

"The priest mentioned it once, the one you never shed a tear over. It's supposed to be paradise, but how would that look?" I swallowed, not knowing what to make of this question.

"It's… Well, I suppose it's similar to Valhalla in some respects. They get there by honoring their god, but instead of fighting in battle you have to show restraint when it comes to the temptations of Midgard. They have virtues they value above all else, and if you live a virtuous life you make it up to paradise."

"And then what? You feast and fight?"

"No, it's… I have no idea. It's paradise, so I imagine it might be different for everyone."

"Mortal spirits, having lived a life of restraint, and then they reach their paradise… I can't see how that would be a pleasant place, at all."

"Oh, but it is. Pleasant, I mean, or… This is really strange, for me to talk about with you."

"I'm just curious. What do you imagine haevn looks like for that priest?"

"I never really thought about it… But I think he might be painting, he enjoyed working on their texts. Maybe he's finally letting loose and has a girlfriend now, he's had to hold back for the longest time. I mean, he got a princess pregnant, and he hopes to see her there again, but… Yeah, I like to think he's happy. That's why people believe in that false god, I think. The idea of those you miss being happy elsewhere makes death easier to take."

"Then where is he now, if his haevn doesn't exist?" My mind went to dark places again. If he died believing in false gods, there was no telling if he would even reach Helheim.

"I imagine he's floating around in between the branches of Yggdrasil, since he renounced the gods."

"Thank you, Ragnhild," the Seer said as he extended his hand. The conversation was over. I licked him palm and took my leave.

I had never been so confused after seeing him. Mostly he left me frustrated and a bit angry, but this... I felt like I had learned nothing new. He had been vague about Jozef, making it sound like nothing would go wrong, and everything would turn to shit at the same time. And why would he ask me about Heaven? I had never talked about his faith with Athelstan like this before, and now both the Seer and Jozef were asking those kinds of questions. At least I left more confused than I was before, that was a familiar sensation.

I had only taken a few steps when I heard a shelf fall over inside the cabin. I rushed back inside, wanting to check if the Seer was alright.

"Seer? Are you okay?"

"Leave me!" I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. He wasn't underneath the shelf, it seemed like he had knocked it over himself. "Go back to your children." Sighing deeply, I left again. The Seer wasn't prone to strong emotions, why would he knock over a shelf out of anger? I hoped it didn't have anything to do with my answer to his question.

His words kept going through my mind. Jozef and I were sent here together, and things had finally calmed down again, if only for a bit. Thinking on how he might be a danger to me or my family only made my head hurt. A long walk through the woods would do me good.

The forest did nothing to calm me down, however. No matter how many leaves I kicked up, or witnessed squirrels darting up trees, I kept replaying what had happened with the Seer. First him not seeming to notice me there, then the vague answers to my questions, and then suddenly he was as clear as day, only to ask me about Heaven. I had too few pieces to complete the puzzle, which only frustrated me more.

"Ragnhild?" I looked up and nearly had a heart attack. Erlendur was looking at me from beyond a tree. I distinctly didn't look at the axe on his belt as I thought back to the fights I had with Bjorn over him.

"Erlendur? What are you doing here?" I thought I'd never see him again, after what he did to Lagertha. He walked up to me as I stood frozen, unable to decide if I should run or scream for help first. He put one arm around my waist, the other softly holding my face, making the choice for me. I would have to play along for now. "How did you get here?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd even want to see me," he whispered. "Gods, I'm glad to see you." I stepped back before he could hug me. Though he was much shorter than Bjorn, he still loomed over me. I had to get him to talk, before he would try to kidnap me or something. Was that likely to happen? I thought not, but if Bjorn could see me now he would go after him sword in hand.

"I heard what you did in Hedeby, but I can't imagine why you'd do something like that." He sighed and turned his eyes away. "What happened?"

"I don't want to get into that right now."

"You can't just appear here and expect me not to ask questions. I'm willing to hear your side of the story, but you have to realize everyone's still keeping an eye out for you." That was good, pretending we were friends. If he knew how terrified I was, he would be more eager to strike, no matter what he had planned. It wasn't a coincidence that he ran into me, of all people. I had to think about what I said, but my mind was still foggy from my visit to the Seer.

"Just for a moment I'd like to pretend I'm not on the run anymore. I'm so tired..." His eyes turned to me again. I could see the hurt he was going through, and all of it was deserved.

"We can do that afterwards, but I have to know. You can't just expect me to drop it. Lagertha heard the news on my wedding day. We were just sitting down for the feast." I was still mad over it, I noticed.

"So you married Bjorn?" he asked, as if it had been less than certain.

"I did." What else was there to say? Erlendur let go of my arms and leaned back into the tree he was hiding behind earlier. "Please, tell me what happened." He kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of me as he started talking.

"There was this man, Einar. He was earl Kalf's brother-in-law. Kalf had married his sister, and Einar was convinced that he was next in line because of the marriage. When Lagertha came to claim Hedeby for herself, Einar was pissed. He and his family were hel-bent on getting her off the throne. They were afraid to go after her themselves, so they convinced me they would support me if I would usurp her. With a young wife who had already borne a son it was easy to sell to the others, especially with me being Horik's son." That made sense. Lagertha and Ragnar had both made themselves unpopular in Denmark, after slaughtering Horik's wife and sisters, and with her being on raids all the time... That was a recipe for revolution. I couldn't believe Lagertha would be that careless, thinking a settlement was more important than her home.  
Just maybe… Just maybe I had been too quick to judge. I knew how easy it was to get caught up in all kinds of plotting and scheming.

"Why did you decide to do it?" I asked.

"I wasn't exactly given a choice. I didn't want to do it, it was obvious to me Einar meant to kill me after a while. But then they threatened Torvi..." I took a little distance from Erlendur and sat down on the grass. I felt like it was safer somehow, to sit down, but I didn't know why. He sat down next to me, keeping to the edge of where I was comfortable with how close he was to me. I had suspected him to sit closer.

"I thought you divorced her."

"You heard?" Erlendur seemed as surprised as I was to see him.

"Yes, Lagertha mentioned it when she was here. But why did they think it would persuade you, if they were threatening Torvi?"

"Because she is carrying my child." That would do it. Any Viking worth his salt would never let anything happen to his offspring. Her being with child would have been quite the scandal, after a divorce. He would be forced to take care of the child regardless. It wasn't a law, but it was social pressure at its best.

"Einar threatened to hurt her if you didn't cooperate?"

"Yes. I'm not proud to admit it, but I went along with it. I should have gone against him, I knew there was nothing to gain for me. And look at me now..." I closed the distance between us and put a hand to the side of his face.

"No one can blame you for wanting to keep your family safe. Torvi and Gunthrum owe their lives to you." Erlendur took hold of my hand and held it, playing with my wedding ring. I had the same nervous habit when I felt unsure of what to do or say to make it all better, to be understood. But I would turn it on my finger, not move it up and down as if to remove it. Erlendur had come here for at least one reason Bjorn would kill him over.

"You're the only one to think so. I don't know what to do."

"Is that why you came here?" Erlendur didn't respond. "You need help, don't you? I'd never betray a friend, you know that."

"I was hoping you'd say that. If your heart is big enough... Could you help me? I really need a place to hide. Only temporarily, just until I can find safe passage on a ship to somewhere far away from here." His eyes were pleading with me as if I carried his life in my hands.

"It's too dangerous to go asking around yourself. I know of a nearby hunting cabin where you could hide. You'll have a roof over your head, and a fire. I have to get back to town, but I can take you tomorrow morning. I'll come back with some food and water, and a horse to take us."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to put yourself in danger."

"I'll be fine. No one knows you're here, so they won't know to look. You just worry about yourself for now." Erlendur smiled at that.

"You haven't changed a bit. I'm happy to see you again." I had changed, though. Paris had changed me, and even before that I had done things I wouldn't think myself capable of when I first got here.

"Erlendur... Stay safe, alright?" Whatever would happen, no one else could find out he was here.

"I will. I've gotten good at surviving on my own." We hugged a last time, then I went back to the village. I needed to talk to Bjorn, and fast.

As I came back into town, Bjorn was training with Ubbe. I wanted to spend some time watching, knowing Ubbe would cast me an adorable smug glance if he thought he did well, but I had to talk to Bjorn.

"Mind if I borrow him for a bit?" I asked Ubbe. "It's important."

"But we just got started, does it have to be now?"

"I'm afraid so." Bjorn grabbed his shirt, then put his hand on my lower back. He knew I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, he didn't even have to see my face.

"We'll pick up where we left tomorrow," he told Ubbe. As the boy set to clearing away the wooden swords, Bjorn walked me home.

"I'm so sorry," I started off, clinging to his arm as we made our way home. Feeling his muscles made me feel a little safer.

"What is it? You're making me worried, is it the twins? Or did the Seer tell you anything?" I had to think hard to remember what the Seer had spoken of.

"No, it was weird, but... I'll explain inside." Once inside I sat down, letting Bjorn check on the twins. They were fast asleep, as always around this time of day.

"What happened?" It was best to just throw it out. This wouldn't get any easier.

"Erlendur is out in the forest. He approached me." Bjorn's eyes turned hard, unforgiving. "I was terrified of him trying to pull anything, so I played along until I could get away. He was lying to me, about everything." Bjorn pulled me close, I could sense how relieved he was.

"You're safe, that's what matters. We'll find him, and then I'll kill him. The gods know I have a right to." I could understand his sentiment, but my visit to the Seer had made me cautious. I needed to be careful, about everything.

"Lagertha still needs to find out if he had any help usurping her," I insisted.

"Then she shouldn't have stayed in England. She made her choice."

"You don't understand, this is a chance for you to prove that you've matured. Capture him, and let someone else decide on his fate." There was a snarky comment hidden in his mind, and I knew what it implied. "I didn't mean it like that, please. I'm thinking of you, and how you can prove to the people how much you have changed. If you end up killing him that's fine, but you could benefit from this, as well." I sat down on his lap and kissed him.

"Last time you told me to think about it, too, with a clear mind."

"I'm learning. Now I'm telling you what you need to hear, not what I want you to hear. You're smart enough to know what to do with the options you have, and I won't mention it again unless you ask for my help. But I will ask you to hold me, because Erlendur scared me and I need you to tell me everything will be alright." He was more than happy to comply on that last part.

Erlendur had seemed off, in a bad way. He had been so aware of what he did and making sure not to push, it was creepy all the same. It was like he was trying too hard, because he needed something from me later.

"What would you do if I went out and killed him?" Bjorn asked.

"I don't know. I'd offer to come with to help you bury the body, but I know you don't want him near me ever again." His hands slid over my back, my arms, and even my legs, as if he could sense that I needed to feel like I had agency over my body. Feeling his hands touch me, even through fabric, made me aware of how my body felt. Bjorn couldn't fully understand how I sometimes needed a reminder for that, but he was happy to do it for me.

On moments like these I wondered just how I had convinced the gods that I deserved a man like him. It made me want to do an even better job at being his wife. I vowed to gather even more information on what the other earls and kings were up to, make sure he ate balanced enough to keep us his strength in training each day, take care of the boys so he wouldn't have to worry about them as much.

The door opened, giving me a mild heart attack. Bjorn put one hand on my back, above my heart, and the other on my face. His lips on mine calmed me down the most.

"Am I interrupting?" Ragnar came in as I shook my head.

"Actually, would you mind?" Bjorn asked. "If it's important we'll find you in a bit." Bowing out gracefully, Ragnar closed the door behind him.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You run into Erlendur, and you think I'm fine after ten minutes? I'm not as quick to go on with my life as you are." His hands kept on moving over my body. I leaned into his chest and put my fingertips on his chest, softly moving them up and down.

Bjorn let out a contented sigh. He was right, sitting here like this was better than dealing with Ragnar and his issues. Whatever they were about, Bjorn and I were more important.

When his hand slid to my belly, I knew he was calm again. Still, he let out a longing sigh. Spending three weeks with the twins after the raid was enough for him to want another one, not run for the hills to save whatever sanity was left to him.

"Patience," I said. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get pregnant again already, it was nice to finally have my body to myself again. But whenever I held Angrboda, I knew my ovaries told me otherwise. "The gods know what they're doing, have a little faith." Bjorn laughed.

"Since when do you tell me to have more faith in the gods? What did I miss?" I had defended more of my choices than I cared for, lately. Jozef was relentless in his interrogations. Bjorn meant it as a joke, but remembering my contact with my brother made me remember my visit to the Seer.

"The Seer told me that my brother will cause the same as me. It could go either way. But I asked about the dreams as well." Bjorn's fingers found my neck. I lifted up my head so he could see the faint bruising.

"It's almost gone. What did he say?"

"I worry too much. It's stress, I'm being torn apart myself. And I have a choice to make."

"Really? More fated things?"

"I don't like this either. But the Seer was off somehow, he asked me about Heaven, and after I left he threw a shelf against the floor. I went back in, but he told me to get lost." Bjorn pulled me close again.

"Your whole summer has been like this, hasn't it? No wonder you're sleeping so poorly. What do we do now?"

"I don't know. We could lock ourselves in and never come out again. We'll die having sex."

"Don't tempt me… Come on, let's go see what Ragnar wanted. I want to get it over with and then spend the night in peace." After a long kiss I got off his lap and went for the twins, but Bjorn put a hand on my shoulder.

"They'll be fine, we don't need to wake him up. We won't be gone for long."

"They're too young to be left alone. What if they need me?"

"They'll be fine. It's healthy to leave them crying at this point, they'll learn how to comfort themselves." I glanced back at them, feeling myself getting worried already. "Ragnhild, it's fine. They're growing up, and they need to learn things on their own. Please, you can't cling to them like Sigurd clings to you."

"You can't blame me for wanting to be better than Aslaug," I sneered. Bjorn sighed and waved his hand, giving up. I picked up Thormund, who was still fast asleep. Siggy fussed a bit when Bjorn took her in his arms, but she fell asleep again as he held her against his chest.

"I know you do, but you don't need to drag them along for every step you take outside. So what if they cry? They'll always have each other." I didn't agree, at all, but I didn't want to fight anymore. Today had been difficult enough.

Ragnar was surprised to see us coming in the hall so soon. He held out his hands to take Thormund in his arms, his eyes lighting up as he raised the boy up high. I didn't have the energy to smile, and even Bjorn wanted to get it over with.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

"I was curious why you would break off your training with Ubbe. It must have been important." I had no desire to go over it again and let Bjorn tell the story. I watched Ragnar's face contort the more he heard, and it got even worse as I provided additional details.

"We could go search for him right away, or wait for him to fall asleep. He doesn't know these woods as we do," Bjorn said. He stroked Siggy's head as she slept, holding onto his shirt with her tiny fist. "The sooner he is dead the better, but I'm not the king." Ragnar's eyes narrowed as he shot me a glance.

"What did she come up with?"

"I didn't come up with anything. I only pointed out that there might be another way than interrogation and torture to find out what he did and why."

"I think it's best to kill him as fast as we can. He got away twice before, we can't risk losing him again." Ragnar gave Thormund his pink to suck on as he started fussing, then looked back up at us.

"Ragnhild seems fond of taking risks with her own life. Why not let her decide on this as well? It's obvious she wants him to live a little longer." I let out an exasperated sigh as I stared at the ceiling for a bit, asking the gods for a quick and sudden death.

"Don't make this about Harbard. I think I might be able to get some information out of Erlendur neither of you would get, but I don't want to go out without some back-up. Do you think the information he might have is worth putting my life in danger over? I have no idea what you're after, to begin with."

"We could be facing a whole new enemy," Ragnar said. "Lagertha still hasn't made it back, so whoever we're up against might strike again. I don't know what that woman's doing, but she's making a mistake."

"Don't talk about my mother like that," Bjorn snapped. Both of us weren't up for a round of insults with Ragnar. "I don't want her to go anywhere near him, and with good reason. He tried to kill me to get a chance with her, and I'm not forgetting about that anytime soon. Just let me go out there to kill him, and we'll be done with this." Ragnar took us both in. We were anything but in shape to deal with this, after all of our bickering about my brother.

"Well, I'm curious to see what the vessel has to offer. Who knows what she could pull out from him. We'll follow her out tomorrow." Bjorn scowled at his father, but he didn't say a thing. "Try and get some rest, and lay off on the heavy lovemaking. You both look terrible." I got up without a word, taking Thormund back in my arms. He fussed a bit, but calmed down as I gave him a fresh digit to suckle on.


	121. Bad Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating on Friday as usual. I had a lot less time these past few days than I thought, and I didn't want to post chapters I'm not happy with. Here's the one I did complete, the other 3 will come either this weekend or next update, which I hope will be Tuesday. I'm doing my best to stick to the schedule, but sometimes life happens.
> 
> 29-08-803

Erlendur had hidden out of sight. He only dared approach me when I already had been waiting for ten minutes, too afraid someone might have followed me. Hungry as he was, he wanted to get going first. I felt uncomfortable with him sitting so close behind me, but he didn't know where to go, and I didn't like in the idea of him feeling my breasts press up against his back at times, either.

As we started riding, I was certain he got hard. I was lucky he couldn't see my face, because I was contorting it in discomfort whenever I felt it rub against me.

"You seem more quiet than usual," Erlendur finally said. The poking had subsided a little as he ate breakfast.

"It's not like you have much to say." He fell silent again. I knew I should try and talk to him, if only to make him think he could trust me. If I didn't get anything from him, this stupid plan would be for nothing. After dinner last night I had gone straight to bed, only to be woken up when Bjorn joined me a few hours later. I felt rested, but the weight of the silence between me and Bjorn was making me less than chatty.

After a few minutes, I spoke up again. Knowing Bjorn and Ragnar were following us closely was comforting. If Erlendur tried anything, all I had to do was scream. It kept most of the nerves at bay.

"I have a lot on my mind, that's all. I had another fight with Bjorn last night."

"I'm sorry to hear that. May I ask what it's about?" He was just as nervous as me, for some reason. Erlendur wasn't one to talk formally to other people, especially when they were beneath him. I knew that in his mind he was still a prince, and he knew how to act like one.

"He thinks I'm being careless with my life." Bjorn wasn't wrong, but I was doing whatever I could to help keep the kingdom safe. He couldn't be mad at me for doing my part. I was the reason we were under threat in the first place, letting someone else take care of my mess felt wrong. Bjorn had somehow lost his anger overnight, making me feel anxious about today even more. I depended on him to keep me safe if anything happened, he needed to stay focused. I hadn't even told him about the scratches I had inflicted on myself. Some had gone so deep as to draw blood.

"You'd never do anything to put yourself in harm's way. Doesn't he know that?" Bjorn knew that was exactly what I'd do if the stakes were high enough.

"He does, but he's become very protective. He's... afraid I might run into you. Somehow he got it in his mind you'd come and seek me out." Erlendur chuckled, shedding the formality.

"Well, he was right in that regard. What did you say back?"

"I know you'd never do anything to hurt me. He got so mad when I told him that, we've been fighting about it a lot lately. I tried to tell him there must have been a reason for what happened in Hedeby, even before I ran into you yesterday. But he's adamant about seeing everything you do as an attempt to win me over. I know that's not who you are." I hoped so, with all of my heart.

"He still carries a grudge," Erlendur sighed. "I can't blame him. I ousted his mother, and after the whole thing in Paris..." He failed to mention the attempt on Bjorn's life. If he was hiding that, what else didn't he tell me?

"He should trust me. He can be such a baby about these things. I never thought our difference in age would become this pronounced after all this time." It hurt to say these things, despite the rough patch we were going through. They were exaggerations, but there was at least a hint of truth to them.

"Well, not all marriages are going to last."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I bit back. If he was insinuating I was about to get a divorce, Bjorn and Ragnar were the least of his concern.

"Sometimes things happen that are out of your control. Like someone threatening your wife." He sounded a bit sour, making me worry that I'd pushed him too far.

"I'm sorry, I just... It's not the first time we fought since he came back. I've been stressed out for a while now."

"Then there's more than just me you've been fighting about. You used to tell me about what worried you..." I let out a deep sigh, knowing what he was hoping to hear.

"Bjorn and I have a lot in common, but there are some major differences as well. Earlier this year, he suggested we get a slave to help around the house." The notion still disgusted me. It was easier to talk of real problems between me and Bjorn than it was to come up with a lie, but I didn't like it, at all.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea, to be honest." I turned my head as best I could, throwing him a curious look. He was probably raised by servants, but he must have noticed how badly they were treated.

"I was raised in a place where slavery is abolished. It feels wrong to own someone, as if it's a dog, or cattle. Everyone has the same basic human rights to decide what they want to do with their body, and their lives."

"Or, you could save someone from a cruel fate. You'd be a fair mistress, that slave won't know what'll happen to her."

"That still would mean contributing to the system."

"Slaves will be taken anyway. Don't think you not having one will save a life. If they don't get sold, they're killed. You can tell yourself you're being noble all you want, but that is the truth." His voice was strangely gentle, as if he meant to break a hard truth to me.

"I don't like that truth," I said as I stared dead ahead, head held high.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Bjorn is right. You have two babies, twins no less. You have to get some help. No one expects you to do everything yourself. You need to be able to enjoy yourself occasionally, otherwise you'll go insane."

The horse shied away from my lead as a wolf howled in the distance. It caught us unaware, and Erlendur wrapped his hands around me to stay seated. I felt the warmth of his hands through my dress, and shivered. I focused on calming the horse down and soon we were on our way again. Erlendur hadn't removed his hands.

"I still can't believe you're actually helping me. After all I did against your family... And yet you choose to help me, just because I was nice to you and helped you out a bit. You have a weird sense of loyalty."

"Having a family doesn't mean I have to be loyal to them, no questions asked. I am very much capable of thinking for myself." Erlendur laughed and lowered his hands to my hips. I felt like I could breathe a little easier.

We got to the cabin about an hour past noon. I went inside with Erlendur, seeing it had been abandoned since Bjorn and I spent a week here. A layer of dust graced the furniture, and some leaves had come in through a window that we forgot to close.

"Thanks again, Ragnhild. I must admit I didn't trust you'd help me out like this. But it seems I owe you my life, and I intend on repaying that debt, to the best of my abilities." I smiled at him, hiding the turmoil going on inside my head. "I know you have plenty of reasons to hate me already, but I have to be honest with you."

"It's okay," I said as I put down some of the supplies I carried in my bag. "I know you'd do the same for me, it's not a big deal, really."

"No, it's not." He put a hand on my arm and guided me to a seat, sitting down next to me himself. My mind shot to the time Bjorn fucked me on top of this table. It felt like sacrilege to have Erlendur here at all. "Ragnhild, I'm not blind. I saw the bruise on your neck yesterday." I chuckled as I realized where this was going.

"It's not what you think. Really, I -" His fingers brushed aside my hair, making me nervous. He touched my neck, I stopped breathing for a moment.

"It's not okay. If he hurt you like this, he doesn't deserve you. Ragnhild, please. You can't let him abuse you like this."

"Let me finish. It happened while I was sleeping, I've been having terrible dreams. I did it to myself." Erlendur just stared at me, sliding his hand to the side of my face.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that. I might have believed you if you told me it happened during sex, but this? You're either delusional or in denial." I tried to get up, but he kept me seated with a hand on my shoulder. "Ragnhild, I'm serious. I know how bad you are at protecting yourself, and if you can't, someone has to. I won't stand by and let him hurt you like this, ever." A fire had taken hold of him. I had only seen him this serious before when he had spoken about his father dying, when there must have been revenge on his mind.

"He would never hurt me. Don't assume things about my life." I wanted to snap at him, but I was too afraid he would snap. I started off strong, but the last words came out sounding pathetic, and weak.

"I'm not assuming anything. Just because you have children with Bjorn doesn't mean that you have to stay with him. I'm thinking of you, and your children. Please, you have to be careful. You can't let him have all the power, you are allowed stand up for yourself. You are in charge of your own life." This was ridiculous. He sounded just like Jozef, trying to make me come to some conclusion about Bjorn not being right for me. Jozef always talked of taking back control and power as well...

"And where did you learn how to speak like that? It sounds nothing like you."

"I've had a lot of time to think," he said as he sat back, finally removing his fingers from my skin. His eyes lingered on my throat nonetheless, making my heart beat faster. "You turned my life around, is it so strange to have people listen to you? You're known for giving advice, after all."

"You sound like my brother," I said softly. Erlendur frowned slightly and his mouth hung open as he tried to come up with some excuse. As his eyes found mine, he knew it was useless. I would catch any lie he would fling at me.

"Did you just know?" The self-pity in his voice disgusted me. As I connected the final dots, I realized I was screwed. I had been wrong to trust my brother, just like I had made mistakes with Erlendur. They had been in touch, and seeing as my brother spent most of his time in Denmark... Ragnar would find a way to get back at me if he found out. He had warned me something like this would happen, and I had forced Bjorn into a corner once more.

"Not until now," I said softly. I was in so much shit, and I didn't even know how to get out of here. Whatever it was, I had to do it fast. And yet... "When did you meet?"

"Hedeby, after I got there with Torvi." I knew they had lived in Roskilde before, but Lagertha had made them move to Hedeby so she could keep an eye on him. It was part of the conditions for allowing Erlendur to live after Bjorn had let him leave town. If they met in Hedeby, they hadn't known each other for long. Erlendur had come here by foot, and my brother must have been traveling a lot, maybe he even waited for the men to leave until he got here.

"And you talked about me?" I asked.

"I recognized some of the words he sang once, and we talked about a lot of things." Then why hadn't he told me about my brother? Such a lucky run-in must have stuck, especially after such a conversation. I wanted to find out more, but I had to get out first. I had to get to safety and figure out just how to break the news to Bjorn. Once again I had let him down, and once again he had been right about me putting myself in danger.

"I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can with more supplies."

"We're not done talking yet. Why won't you tell me the truth about Bjorn?"

"This is the truth. If I was lying to you I would come up with a better excuse. I have nightmares you can't even imagine, and you don't get to judge me because you don't believe me."

"You're not putting me at ease. I'm reluctant to let you go back at all." The tension in my body was growing big enough that I started to tear up. I needed Erlendur to not suspect a thing, and for that I needed to act like nothing was wrong. But if I said the wrong thing, he might decide to hurt me, anyway. It was like balancing on a tightrope.

"You can't force me to talk about it," I said, sounding a lot stronger than I felt.

"But I can ask you to tell me regardless. I'm serious, I won't let you go until you've convinced me that Bjorn won't hurt you anymore."

"Careful, Erlendur. You don't want me to rat you out, do you?"

"You'd sooner rat me out than tell me why I shouldn't worry over Bjorn?" I felt like an animal trapped in a corner. Lashing out was the only way out, but at the same time I feared what he could do to me. Bjorn and Ragnar were waiting for me, I had to hurry.

"I don't want to talk about it if you won't believe me."

"Then stop acting so strange. Ever since I brought it up you've become nervous. It does nothing to convince me." I needed to give him something. He wouldn't let go of this without me admitting to something.

"I have nightmares. Last night I dreamt about Christian angels," I said as I stared at my hands. "They fought against Valkyries, but at another point they just sat and had breakfast, or they have fun. But I always wake up scared to death. I haven't been sleeping well, and it's eating at me. I have no idea where the dreams come from. Other times I dream about storms swallowing ships, or a woman with red hair and green eyes, chasing me as I try to run away from her." Some part of me was happy to tell about it, even if it was with Erlendur.

"Ragnhild, please. I won't fall for it, how could you even try and hurt yourself in your sleep? You never lied to me before, don't' make this worse for yourself." This was impossible. I would never satisfy him unless I admitted to what he wanted to hear.

"That's it, I'm out of here. If you won't believe me, I don't know what else to tell you. I have to get home, anyway." I tore free my hand and got up, pushing him aside when he tried to get me to sit down again.

"Ragnhild, I can't let you go like this. You'll get hurt again, and if he finds out you've been helping me he'll do even worse." That almost sounded like a threat, and it pushed me over the edge. Erlendur could suck a dick.

"So what, you plan on keeping me here until I tell you want you want to hear? How is that fair? How can you call that protecting me? Even if you're right, you would be worse than Bjorn. At least he lets me make my own decisions." He raised his hand in anger, but he didn't slap me. He wanted to, but something held him back. His hands balled up into fists, but he didn't move. I took it as an opportunity to leave and dumped out the rest of the supplies from my bag.

I expected him to call out after me, but he didn't. As I closed the door behind me, I saw he sat frozen, staring at the floor with his elbows on his knees, fists still clenched. I couldn't deal with him, and I didn't want to. The horse seemed just as eager to leave as I was.

Bjorn and Ragnar were already riding up to the cabin when I saw them. I had made it out just in time from the looks of it, as Ragnar seemed angry, while Bjorn was mostly relieved. I wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms and feel safe, but we had to get back to town.

"Took you long enough," Ragnar said with a scowl.

"Nothing happened," I told Bjorn. He stopped his horse beside mine, allowing him to touch my face for a moment. "He said some stupid things, but otherwise I'm okay." I wasn't fine. And I couldn't lie to him.

"Ragnhild? Don't make me feel like you're protecting him. What did he say?" I didn't want to respond, knowing Bjorn would be furious with me. Ragnar turned his horse around and stared at me. He must have felt something would be up.

"He told me that he saw my bruise yesterday, and then he started spouting nonsense about how he wants to keep me safe from you. He thinks you hit me, or even worse. He refused to let me go at first." Bjorn had been worried sick over me, especially when he found out that the Seer told me it had to do with a choice I had to make. It wasn't that hard to imagine him thinking about the choice between him and Erlendur.

"And then?"

"I told him I did it to myself, and he accused me of lying. I got out of there as fast as I could, but he said he wanted to keep me safe from you." Bjorn scoffed as he let go of my hand and turned his horse around, too. I guided my horse to walk alongside him, glad to be putting some more distance between us and Erlendur. For the plan to work we needed to keep him alive for a few more days.

"He believes you still care for him?" Ragnar called back.

"Yes, there's just this... He said this thing, and, well..." I let out a deep sigh. "The way he spoke, he reminded me of someone. I think I know who helped him overtake Hedeby." Bjorn's hand shot out to my reins to stop my horse.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's... I'm so sorry, I thought... I was sure that he became a better man, and now..." I wanted to reach out for Bjorn's hand, but he pulled his back as soon as I looked at it.

"My ears must be deceiving me," Ragnar said. "Did I just hear you say that you fell for the same trap again? After you swore to me this time it was different? That you would personally guarantee that it wouldn't be like before?" His voice was like a waterfall, crashing into me with a weight I never expected from his soft tone. I let it wash over me. I deserved it. "After Bjorn repeatedly warned you? When you know what kinds of things he has done, to you no less? Don't look so surprised, I know everything."

I didn't dare look at Bjorn. I knew how he felt about my brother, and how much energy it cost him to pretend everything was fine whenever he was around. Aside from Aslaug and Ivar, the whole family held a grudge against Jozef and even that hadn't been a sign to me. Sigurd had more sense than me. And since I didn't want to act on Bjorn's harsh words, he had spoken to his father.

"Then why don't we kill that rat right now?" Bjorn asked. I knew the question was meant for Ragnar, but I had to speak up.

"You'll never catch Jozef if you do. And Erlendur needs to incriminate him, or you can't do anything." Bjorn grunted, then sped up his horse to walk beside his father. They started an angry, whispered conversation, where I only caught a few words. It was enough to bring me down even more, to the point that I wanted to gallop off ahead of them.

The word irresponsible came from Ragnar's lips a few times, so it must have referred to Bjorn as well. Bjorn muttered something about a risk, and threw back a look as he mentioned family. Ragnar countered that it made no sense, and that's when I had to speak up.

"Jozef is my brother! He was sent here by the gods as well, you can't just ignore that!" Ragnar halted his horse, looking ready to spit fire. He even got off, and I didn't feel inclined to get off as well. I didn't have a choice though, as he grabbed hold of my reins and looked up at me.

I knew what was coming. This was going to be just like when my father was mad at me, and felt like I needed to be put in my place. I didn't dare look at Bjorn for help, knowing that would only make it worse. As soon as my feet hit the ground, Ragnar grabbed me by my wrist.

"You brought a threat into our lives. Do you want to wait until your brother slices someone's throat? Because if he's in this with Erlendur, I know who that will be! How can you be so blind! I don't care what the gods are trying to tell you, I don't want my sons to die!" I blinked ferociously, trying to keep from crying.

It hadn't even crossed my mind, what they might be planning to do to the people I loved. Erlendur would want to kill Bjorn, and from what Jozef had asked about he wouldn't be too broken up about his death. Ragnar was right, I was blind.

"You might be married to Bjorn, but that does not mean you can push us all around as you please. I've let this go too far already. As soon as we get back to Kattegat, I'm taking them both into custody. I'm not willing to risk anything anymore. Honestly, what is it with you and trusting men?" He scoffed as he must have realized, thinking back to all he had seen and heard about my luck with men before Bjorn. I had to look away, I couldn't take much more of this. "Unbelievable. Un-fucking-lievable." He threw my wrist back at me, turning around to get back on his horse. Glancing around, I saw Bjorn was caught in between me and his father. He hesitated for a moment, but then rode beside his father again.

I followed in silence, trying my hardest to keep the demons inside of me at bay. They told me I was a fool, tried to convince me to leave town, that perhaps it was best to run off with Erlendur to punish myself, and underneath it all my father's voice whispered how stupid I was, and how I never would amount to anything if I didn't trust in God.

As we came back, the sun had almost set. I took my sweet time taking care of the horse I had ridden, preferring the silence now it wasn't filled with whispers and resentment ahead of me. Once I got home, Bjorn was already waiting for me, cup of tea ready to drink.

"I'm so sorry," I said to the table once I sat down. "I know I fucked up."

"What am I supposed to say? I warned you, many times, as did Ragnar. You said you knew what you were doing, but obviously you don't. This isn't like before." He was good at hiding his anger, but the way he balled up a fist until the knuckles turned white told me the truth.

"I feel like such an idiot." Bjorn wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

"If it's any comfort, he's mad at me as well." It only made me feel worse.

"He played me. And I fell for it, hook line and sinker. I feel so embarrassed, I thought I was right about Jozef."

"You weren't thinking. That's the whole problem, you stop thinking when you start feeling anything. I know it used to be the other way around, but you have to stay alert. You could've gotten us all killed. We still could die from this if we don't come up with something fast."

"I understand. I just... He's family." I wrapped my hands around the mug, still not daring to look Bjorn in the eye.

"No, don't you dare compare this to how father forgave Rollo. This is nothing like that." In my eyes, it was exactly the same.

"It's everything like it," I snapped. I was trying to say something that was hard for me to admit, and I needed some time to find the right words. I couldn't do that if he kept on interrupting me. "I wanted what you have, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I want a brother I can depend on, I want to know what it's like to trust in the people that I grew up with. And unlike you, I only have one option."

"That only makes sense if you're not happy being a part of your family here. Are you not a part of Ragnar's family? Of Lagertha's? Don't we have our own family now? What more could you want? Aren't we enough?" Was I really that selfish? I had been fine before, but ever since Jozef had returned there was this... A longing, to see what had become of my own family. I knew I'd never see my parents again, and the idea that I might have patched things up with my mother weighed heavy on my heart.

"You have four brothers," I shot back.

"They're more like nephews to me, and you know that. I had a sister once, and she died when I was out witnessing my father cheat on my mother. That's the kind of shit you can forgive, that's what you taught me. It had nothing to do with me, and I shouldn't judge my parents for what they do to each other. What that piece of shit did to you? I'd tear out his liver if you'd let me. And if Ragnar didn't want to keep him alive for a while longer, I would do it anyway." Bjorn had never talked to me like this, like he was a warrior who could easily kill another human being. It scared me. I knew this was part of who he was, but it scared me all the same.

"You never talked to me like this," I said as I turned back to my mug.

"You never made me want to kill someone with my bare hands before." As I shot him a look, I saw he was clenching his jaw. He was straining to hold back. Even if wanted to defend myself, I knew it was a mistake to keep on talking. I finished the lukewarm tea and wanted to get up, but Bjorn put a hand on my back.

"I don't know what else to say. You were right, I was wrong," I said.

"We're not done yet. Ragnar will come by in a bit, and I need to know what you will say." I looked up at him, knowing this wouldn't be much better than the trip back into town.

"I thought he would arrest Jozef."

"He'll be here right after. You had better come up with a damn good apology, and he'll ask if you know what your brother hopes to achieve." I closed my eyes for a second, feeling how the desperation sunk in even deeper.

"I don't know. We talked about growing up a lot, and he asked me about... Well, he..." Bjorn let out a disappointed sigh. "He asked me if I was happy here a lot, and he knows I'm terrible at picking men to trust." He got up, and I didn't dare hold him back.

"That's it. I'll kill him." I wanted to tell him he needed to think about this, but after what I found out today I couldn't blame him, at all. Knowing Jozef had probably been planning to hurt my family with Erlendur made me feel empty when I thought of him being dead. He was just as manipulative as our father, and that was something I could very well live without.

It wasn't just Bjorn who stood to lose his life. Erlendur would have to take out Ragnar as well, and as this was about revenge for killing his family. The boys' lives were at stake as well, and perhaps even the twins.

The door opened, and stayed open for longer than I thought it would. Ragnar was in the door opening, staring up at Bjorn. After a few tense seconds both of them came in and sat down. Bjorn laid his hand on my thigh, and it wasn't hard to see why. Ragnar's eyes were almost bulging out of his skull, his breathing was hard and he gave off a murderous vibe.

"You fooled me, Ragnhild. I thought you were a grown-up woman, but it seems you insist on acting like a child. You won't mind if I ask you a few questions, do you?" I shook my head, desperate to cling to Bjorn's arm. "Why did I arrest your brother just now?"

"Because he is a threat to the kingdom."

"And?"

"He's a threat to our family."

"And?"

"I was wrong to trust him. I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't help me get rid of him! Why did I arrest him!" Crying or asking Bjorn for help would only make it worse. I didn't need to feel, I needed to think. Closing my eyes for a moment, I shoved down what I felt and let my mind go over what I knew. It was easier than before, sinking into the coping mechanism that had caused me so much trouble in life before I got to know Bjorn. Jozef truly brought out the worst in me.

"He helped overthrow Lagertha, and now he means to help Erlendur with whatever plan they came up with. Erlendur is after me, but I don't know what Harbard wants. He's been asking about how happy I'm here, and our marriage." Without fear to hold me back, I looked Ragnar in the eye. He noticed the change in my behavior, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"You do realize what a mundr is for, right?" Ragnar asked. "And how well Lagertha negotiated for you on your behalf, since it would revert to you?" I frowned for a split second, then saw the sense in it. With Bjorn either dead or divorced from me, I would come to own it to build a life for myself and the twins. As he was deprived from the bride price before we got married, he could make a compelling case to share in my mundr, meaning he would be rich as well.

Money wasn't that strange of a reason for him to want to come up with some elaborate plan. He had blackmailed me once to pay off his gambling debts, threatening to tell our mother of my failed second suicide attempt. As for Erlendur, he had already set himself up as someone that could protect me.

"Did you send someone out to take care of Erlendur?" I asked.

"No, not yet. It's too late to make the trip there and back before dark. But I happen to know two people who owe me a huge favor. Don't fuck this up, or I'll put you in chains next to your brother."

"You can't be serious," Bjorn said.

"Bjorn." I put my hand on his. "Ragnar's right, we need to clean this up ourselves. Once again I led you astray, and that can't happen a third time. I made a huge mistake, and now I have to face the consequences." I needed to win back their trust. Bjorn didn't show it, but he was just as bothered with this as Ragnar was.

"You've done enough damage. The further away you are from all of this, the better. I won't let you near either of them ever again." I could understand Bjorn's sentiment, but it didn't make sense.

"You know that's not going to happen, no matter how badly you want it. We'll have to get up early tomorrow." There was no doubt in my mind that Ragnar would get his way.

"What, you expect him to believe that you found him a way out of town that fast?"

"I left the cabin in the middle of a fight. He'll believe that I mean to talk it out, if only because he wants to believe it. People are easy to fool if you tell them what they want to hear." Ragnar scoffed and got up.

"If only you could have thought of that a few moons ago. Bjorn, come pick up your children. I think Ragnhild needs some silent contemplation." Bjorn put his hand to my face, causing me to look up at him, wondering what he wanted. He sighed and stood up straight, following his father out.

As the door closed, I took off my dress and buried myself beneath the bed furs. The fear and worry returned, biting me in the ass as always. I curled up and tried to make myself as small as I felt. I wasn't even surprised to find out my brother meant to harm me, or that he was the one to help Erlendur. He knew more than I did, about a lot of things. He was smarter, better at understanding how things worked, and he knew how to manipulate me like no other.

Erlendur had known exactly what to say to make me feel like I was trapped, while at the same time pulling at my heart strings. They had met at some point before Erlendur showed himself to me yesterday, he was too aware of what would get to me for things to be different. And they had played me so well.

Looking back it was easy to see, now that I knew the truth. I had every reason to believe Jozef, and then Erlendur had fucked up by letting me know they were working together. It didn't even make sense, Jozef had nothing to gain from me being happy with another man. He couldn't possibly think Erlendur would make me happy according to his standards, he never meant for Erlendur to succeed. I fell asleep trying to figure out what Jozef wanted from me.


	122. The Pretender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-08-803

"Erlendur?" I softly knocked on the door of the cabin before I pushed it open enough for me to slip through. "Erlendur, are you there?" The cabin appeared to be empty, not even a trace of Erlendur having been here lingered, save for some disturbances in the thin layers of dust. Just my luck. I let out a deep sigh and threw my satchel on the table, annoyed our plan was already failing. I didn't feel like sitting around here waiting for him to return. If he even planned to come back here.

Sitting down on a dingy chair I sighed again, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. All that fighting with Bjorn over nothing, the way here had been full of resentment and unspoken truths. I thought of leaving Erlendur a message, but I didn't think he'd be able to understand it. I went outside and climbed on the horse again.

"You're welcome," I muttered as I gave the horse the signal to start walking. I was genuinely pissed Erlendur had gone away from the cabin. If he was caught by anyone other than Bjorn or Ragnar, they'd kill him on sight, or drag him to Kattegat and make a spectacle of it all. Jozef would bide his time, and without an incrimination from someone else than the three of us, we could at most drive him out of town, only to be blind to whatever he would be planning next.

I had it all figured out. Over a bite of food I'd complain about Bjorn some more, talk about my life back home, mention my brother a few times... Really drive the point home I wasn't as confident about Bjorn never hurting me as I had made myself out to be. Erlendur would have no choice but to comfort me of course, and in my sorrow, I would ask him how he thought the rest of his life would pan out. Put on the spot like that he'd make something up, which could provide me with a lot of information while he grew hopeful. He would start monologuing, and then Bjorn would strike.

Bjorn would have sneaked up by then, waiting for the right moment to burst in, sword in hand. He'd take down an unarmed Erlendur with ease, then drag him back to Kattegat much in the same way Jarl Borg had once been brought in. If it all worked out I wouldn't have any need to visit him in his cell later. It was more of a risk, but since I only had to go through it once, in my eyes it was the better choice.

I made my way to the edge of the forest, hoping against all odds I might run into him anyway. Bjorn would come up shortly, we could decide on what to do next when I saw him. The forest was dense, making it hard to navigate and keep in sight of the road, but if Erlendur had hidden at the sound of someone approaching, this was the first place he could reach that provided cover.

"Erlendur," I whispered in a shout. "Where the fuck are you?" I called out every now and then, looking around me to keep an eye for Bjorn at the same time. Just when I sat up straight and wanted to admit defeat, someone called back. Even if he was around, there was no way for me to know if he would respond to me.

"Ragnhild?" I looked up in surprise, seeing Erlendur standing on a branch high up in one of the trees. He wore dark colors, if he hadn't spoken up I never would have seen him. The woods were too thick around these parts. "You were followed. I saw Bjorn riding past not too long ago." He seemed nervous.

"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry. I'll find him and get him away from here. I left some food for you at the cabin." Now I was face to face with him, I felt anxious myself. I didn't want to be alone with Erlendur.

"It's no use. Bjorn will have figured out I have stayed there by now. I can't go back there." So much for the plan. Now I had to improvise my way out of this mess. Him knowing Bjorn was around was not part of the plan, and neither was me being alone with him without Bjorn knowing where I was at all times.

On the way over Bjorn had convinced me that most of his anger came from him not trusting Erlendur. He was worried Erlendur might take advantage of my bleeding heart, and after yesterday I couldn't blame him. He was livid over me not taking his worries seriously.

"Where will you go?" I asked. Erlendur needed to think for a second, then his face turned from worried to serious.

"I know a place, but I'll need a horse to get there."

"I can bring you," I offered instantly. I wasn't going to give him a horse to take off on and ride into the sunset. "We can outsmart Bjorn and leave him wandering around here if we hurry."

"Are you sure?" My horse whinnied and wanted to be off, but I held her back. Erlendur didn't notice my nervousness, but the mare did. My knees were clamping together into the sheepskin that served as a saddle.

"No. But I can't let him find you." Most of all, I couldn't let Erlendur escape again.

"Scoot over a bit." Erlendur climbed down a few branches, then lowered himself on the back of the mare. She moved around a bit, not prepared for the added weight that suddenly appeared. "Go to the east, we need to lose Bjorn, first." I did as Erlendur said, while furiously hoping Bjorn trusted me enough to improvise my way out of it. It's him I don't trust, rang through my head. Erlendur grabbed my shoulder as he looked back, hoping to see only trees and bushes.

"I'm so sorry this happened," I whispered. "I was sure he was still asleep when I left."

"I know," he whispered back. "I trust you. He must have figured it out somehow. He doesn't seem to trust you as much as you thought." Erlendur went straight for the jugular. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but if he mistrusts you enough to go after you like this..."

"There have been rumors," I admitted. "People seem to think we had an affair when you were in Kattegat." As he shifted his weight I realized just how close he had pressed himself up to me. When he breathed in deep, I wondered if he was trying to catch the scent of my hair.

"What? I was married. And you'd never -"

"I know, but it's been eating at him ever since he first caught wind of it."

"He must be scared of losing you." His fingers softly stroked over my shoulder, barely shying away from where my skin was bared to the sun. Once again he knew just how far he could go before I felt uncomfortable enough to speak up.

"If that's the case, this is a good way to make sure he will." Just as I accepted Erlendur being so familiar, he leaned in close again, whispering in my ear.

"Are you alright? I've never seen you this angry." I had to keep my emotions in check. I couldn't let on I was pissed about something else entirely. I was voluntarily leaving the safety of having Bjorn just a scream away to go off with Erlendur, all by myself, with no way of defending myself. No matter why I did it, Bjorn was right not to trust me when I asked him to. I always did shit like this in the heat of the moment, and when it came to men, it usually backfired.

"Bjorn should know better than to go around my back. If he has some issue with me, he should tell me to my face. If he doesn't trust me to the point he's following me around, I'll strangle him next time I see him." Erlendur scoffed, but I didn't hear it. I felt his chest move, and a brief, warm breeze passed my ear. Instinctively, I turned my head to the side. Erlendur cleared his throat and sat up straight again, as if something had pulled him from his thoughts.

"My father was right about you. I'd hate to see you pick up a weapon," he said. I glanced back to see where the change in his tone came from. He seemed to recover from whatever it was as soon as I turned to face him, I only saw how his lips formed into a grand smile.

"Didn't he just bitch about the fact I got Ari to renounce his title?" I asked as I turned back to see the road ahead. The mare was heading straight for a tree until I guided her more to the left.

"Oh, there was plenty of that. He had some choice words about you, but after Kalf died he was too scared of you to try something. At least nothing that would risk setting off Lothbrok or Ironside. They left quite the impression on him back in Frisia." Even though I was dying to find out what Horik thought was so scary about me, I had to stay on point. I couldn't let my personal interests come before that of the scraps of the plan that were still left in place.

"It's funny you should mention that. I've been setting them off myself lately, with Jozef and all. They barely trust him, for some reason. I can't see what they have against him, it's not like he's hurting anyone."

"He slept with Aslaug," Erlendur provided, as if to break the news to me. He didn't fail to provide me with some comfort by putting a hand on my shoulder. "Harbard told me when I ran into him."

"Oh, that's ages ago. And with all the progress Ivar's made, that shouldn't be an issue anymore. You know how Ragnar is with forgiving others, he's only ruthless when you repeat your mistakes." I was still feeling the truth of those words for myself.

"You knew?"

"I'm not stupid," I chided. "I know they were fucking, and I know it stopped when he got back this spring. Jozef knows better than to bring me in danger. Ragnar warned the both of us about staying in line."

"He did?"

"Yes. Ragnar made it very clear we were to behave. I'm putting a lot of faith in my brother, and I trust that he won't abuse that." It was working. Erlendur was growing restless. His short silence told me everything I needed to know.

"Does he trust you?" I took in a deep breath. "Ragnhild?"

"I owe him," was all I said.

"What are you not telling me?" He leaned in close enough for me to hear him breathing.

"I'm not sure if my brother ever told you, or if he even knows this, but... I think I killed our father." Erlendur's body froze up behind me. "I'm not sure," I quickly added. "I stabbed him in the chest and left him for dead. I never found out if he actually died, and I didn't care enough to look into it."

"What did he do to you?" That wasn't the reaction I had hoped for. Erlendur needed to think that Jozef had some ulterior motive for whatever he was hoping to get out of this, not change the subject.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"You'd never hurt anything or anyone, unless you had a very good reason. Even after all the shit I pulled you're still helping me. Did he rape you?" My body shuddered at the thought.

"He didn't... But he made sure I was. I was still a child. He meant to punish me for..." Did I dare tell Erlendur I was raised a Christian? What if my brother had already told him?

"That's inexcusable, no matter what you did." Erlendur didn't even need to hear why. I could feel his anger radiating off him, despite his tender embrace. One arm covered my stomach, while the other crossed my chest. I didn't know how to respond to this, it was a friendly gesture, but it made me feel anxious and more than a little afraid. "What a fucking scumbag. Why didn't they arrest him?"

"I didn't trust anyone enough to tell them. I kept it to myself for over four years." Erlendur rested his head on my shoulder. The pity that mixed in with the anger was suffocating, as was his embrace. I could barely keep the horse on the path ahead, I was too afraid to move my elbows as that would mean I would touch him even more.

"You - you mean you actually lived with that man until..." He raised up his head again, but he kept his face close to the elaborate braids in my hair. I could still feel his breath on my skin as the horse brought me even further away from Bjorn, and from safety. The forest grew thicker the longer we went on, until even the path was barely visible.

"Until I tried to kill him, yes. I'm a very twisted woman, always have been. My father saw to that."

"Ragnhild, I'm so sorry that happened to you." The way I knew pity, it was used as an acknowledgment of how weak I was. For years it had been a warning sign that someone would try and take advantage of me as well.

"Thanks, I guess. I'm not really sure how to feel about it all." I always felt weird when people had such a strong emotional reaction to what had happened. They never even met the man, and my words were enough to elicit such powerful emotions.

"No one should have to go through such a thing, especially at such an age. No wonder it took so long for you to settle down after you became a free woman. I really don't know how Kattegat can buy into those rumors."

"It's not exactly public knowledge... Most have an inkling of what happened to me, but they all assume it was just once." Erlendur's hold on me grew tighter again. Shit. I shouldn't be telling him all these things, why did I even say that?

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on. I ran away from home when I was eighteen, I'd been abused for most of those years, and I had no fucking clue of how the world truly worked. You think my father and brother were the only one to abuse my trust? I spent five years running around like a headless chicken. Only when I got here did I start to heal."

"I didn't know that." Erlendur thought on it for a while, then told me it was safe enough to gallop on ahead. As I complied, he held onto me even tighter. It was the lingering of his arms that made me feel uncomfortable, it felt like he would never let go of me again. The fear in my veins flared up, causing me to break out in a sweat. I was practically running away from Bjorn, but now I was in this situation I didn't know how to get out again.

"You told me once that Bjorn takes care of you," he said, finally not having to keep our voices low anymore. "Does he know about these things?" I didn't want to talk about it with him, at all, but I was scared of ticking him off.

"It took me a while until I trusted him enough to tell him, but he's been great about it."

"You're lucky, then. I can imagine it must be hard to find people to trust with something like this."

"Mostly I can figure out who to trust or not by waiting to see how long it takes for them to ask to see my markings. Kalf's first words to me were about wanting to see, out at the dock." Back then I had considered Kalf to be a dangerous enemy, but looking back I could see how Ragnar thought it a nice challenge for Bjorn and me to prove what we were capable of. Back then we still relied on him heavily, but now he expected us to act like substantive leaders.

"What an idiot," Erlendur confirmed. There was not a doubt in my mind Erlendur was now thinking back to how long it had taken him to ask me about it, while at the same time wondering how long Bjorn had waited. "How long did Bjorn have to wait?" I rolled my eyes before I answered.

"We didn't really see each other that often when we first met, but I think it was about the fifth time." He'd seen two of my markings when we swam in the lake together, which was fairly soon after we had started getting to know each other. He hadn't asked about me being the vessel until I'd started talking about it myself. He knew I hated it.

"For you to trust him, I mean." I blinked two times, then put on a fake smile again.

"Oh, right. Let me think... A bit less than a year?" I had told him about one or two things, but the real trust had come after he returned from Frisia. After that, it was clear to me that he was serious about wanting to be with me, and that we could move past our mistakes. Everything had been so much simpler back then.

"And I've only really known you for a moon or two, before you trusted me enough to tell me. You've come a long way, then. You should be proud of that." Although I'd told Erlendur as part of my plan, there was a kernel of truth to it.

"I hadn't looked at it that way," I said pensively. Still, I felt like Erlendur wanted to imply such a significant improvement was in part due to him being so awesome.

"It's funny, though. If you had killed my father and come to Denmark..." Oh, shit. Erlendur was really laying it on thick. "Not that I - I've been wondering what could've happened, to keep me from ending up in this pile of shit. I've had a lot of time to think." There was a longing in his voice, as if he wanted to pour out his heart but didn't dare say the words out loud. Was it smart to push on it, or should I keep my distance?

"I suppose that's... I'd have married you. That was Borg's grand plan, at least."

"But you don't want to be queen, or so you told me. Still, I think you'd do wonderful there. The Danes are very different from Norsemen." It might seem to Erlendur like they were, but in my mind there was no such thing as Viking Light. It was why I had pushed myself so hard to fit in, why I was still having difficulty understanding this life at times.

"How so?"

"We're a lot more relaxed, for one. We don't have as many mountains around, so we can travel more easily. The lands are more fertile, and there are fewer predators around. Everything's a lot less life-or-death."

"Don't you still have sacrifices?"

"That's not life-or-death, that's for the gods." Well duh, his tone said. Strangely enough, his reaction made me able to relax, if only a little. "You do believe in the gods, don't you?" His way of saying it told me he already knew the answer. He just wanted me to confirm it.

"They brought me here, of course I believe in them." Even I wasn't convinced when I heard myself say it.

"It's okay, you can tell me. I won't judge you." Now that I wanted to test.

"Alright. I believe they exist, but I don't like them. I hold my own fate in my hands, and no grand godlike being can make me do shit." Erlendur took in a deep breath at my words. I'd caught him off guard.

"Okay, that's... Honest." He loosened his grip on me, if only a little.

"My brother and I were raised as Christians. When I fell from faith as we call it, my father... Did that thing. After losing faith that completely once it was hard for me to believe in anything anymore." Erlendur withdrew his lingering hands, and as I turned around I saw he was pale as a ghost.

"What do you mean, you were Christian?"

"Well, just that. We went to church, we prayed to that false god, and we believed in their prophet. Jozef left home earlier than me, but he kept holding onto his faith, as far as I know. Even now I can see traces of it, in the way he speaks. Most of his songs that you can't understand are about Christian things as well."

"But he... From what I heard he is well-versed in the stories and legends." Poor Erlendur. I could almost hear the mirror shattering inside his head as the truth as he knew it fell apart. Whatever trust he had in Jozef was now gone for good.

"He's also very good at lying and making up things. I'm glad to know he still lives, but like me, he had to adapt to a very different life here. If you only spoke briefly, I'd take a good hard look at him again. I saw plenty of evidence he's at least as conflicted as me, but he might still believe in the Christian god."

"That's not possible. I heard him, I saw him. He believes in the gods, how else could he…" Erlendur was taking this worse than I thought. I looked back again, halting the horse as I saw his bewildered look. "He -" Erlendur let out a deep sigh. "He was certain you were being used. He heard a lot of stories that started to make sense to him. About how you shied away from men before, and still gave Bjorn a shot after he almost raped you, and what Ragnar made you do..." Aslaug had spoken way out of bounds when Jozef had first been here. She was a huge liability, and Jozef having kept silent on all that she told him meant he was hiding more than I thought possible.

"So what, you figured you'd come here and save me?"

"No! Ragnhild, don't stop trusting me over a misunderstanding. I ran into Harbard before I saw you out in the woods, and he was the one to tell me that I should come to your aid." Why would Jozef tell him that? If anything, he wanted me to turn away from my life here, not exchange one Viking for another. Perhaps he had meant to use Erlendur to break me and Bjorn up, to swoop in as my hero? It was the best I could come up with, under the circumstances.

"You mean to steal me away," I whispered. Erlendur reached past my waist and pulled on the reins, then got off the horse, allowing me to breathe again. "You wanted to use Harbard to get to me when I was vulnerable. You knew he would try and drive a wedge between me and Bjorn..." It felt like someone pressed a chunk of ice to my spine. If he hadn't gotten off, I would have pushed him off. Something had changed, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"What he told me, and… Harbard, he… Then, you…" He was losing his calm, and I had no desire to be caught in a mental breakdown. I grabbed a tight hold of the reins and got ready to ride off in full gallop.

"As I said, my brother is the best liar you will ever meet. He can be ruthless, and selfish, and make you believe whatever he wants you to. He learned that from our father."

"Then what does that make you?" he asked, eyes wide as he stared at me, hard. "How are you connected to them? Is he even your brother?"

"We're twins, we grew up together. Of course he's my brother. Whatever he told you, the truth is probably closer to the opposite of that." Erlendur walked a few paces, then stared off into the distance. He was acting as if I had told him I came from the future.

The sun told me it was time to head back. As long as I could make it back into town on time and kept track of where I rode past we might be able to catch him. But it didn't matter as long as Bjorn knew I was safe. I turned the horse around so I would at least be heading off in the right direction.

I was torn between two impossible choices. On the one hand, I wanted to return to Bjorn as fast as I could, and on the other, I knew that if I played this well, I could get us back in Ragnar's good graces. Bjorn was only in this mess because of me, so I felt like I owed it to him to try and make it better. But I also knew that he would be mad at me for even trying.

Erlendur didn't even respond when I put a hand on his back. His eyes kept staring dead ahead, as if he was focused on something I couldn't see. His lips were moving in some kind of prayer.

"Erlendur?" His lips stopped moving at the sound of my voice.

"It's not right." He turned around and put his hands on my face. "It's all a lie. Your brother, he... You have no idea how dangerous he is. Promise me that you will steer clear of him, please. If I could I would take you far away from him, but it's no use." His eyes were intense, wild, unpredictable. It was clear that whatever he was planning on doing with me, his mind was far away from Bjorn and coming between us.

"You're scaring me. What's gotten into you?" My breathing grew hard, and my heart rate went up when he kept me from stepping back.

"Promise," he repeated, pulling me even closer. I gasped as he dug his fingers into the back of my neck. "Promise me! Tell me you had nothing to do with all of this! What are you!" Whatever had gotten into him, he was losing his mind.

He let go of my face and held me against him as he drew a knife, and despite me struggling to break free he had no trouble slicing my palm. I screamed out loud, only to be smothered as he pushed my head into his chest. He wrested open my bloody fist, and only now I truly understood how much of an advantage he held over me. I was helpless, truly, deeply useless.

He would kill me, for what my brother had told him. I had no idea what it was, but I would pay the price for what Jozef had done. I should have known how dumb it was to mention my religious upbringing, but something about Erlendur had drawn out my soft side that loved to share, about anything.

Not that it mattered anymore. Erlendur would take out his anger on me, and only the gods knew how much of it I would be aware of. I would never see Bjorn again, or the twins. It was over, I had lost because of some stupid attempt to placate Ragnar. Either he had known something like this would happen and he meant for me to get hurt, or even he had underestimated Erlendur.

All of a sudden he let me go, pushing me away from him, but when I tried to run for the horse he stopped me, trapping me between the mare and his body, his hands next to my shoulders.

"Your blood is still red," he murmured. "You... What are you, Ragnhild?"

"I'm scared," I whispered. "Please, let me go. I need to return to my babies. They need me." The mare's dirty coat was the only thing I could dig my fingers into, but it didn't get me far. She whinnied and tried to walk off, but Erlendur grabbed hold of the reins and kept me where I was.

"Do you even know?" he asked. His hands grabbed hold of my wrists, then he pulled me away from the horse. I was too scared to struggle, all I could think of was how Bjorn would swoop in and save me, despite the distance between us. I would never get away from Erlendur on my own, he was too strong and too fast.

But at the least, I had to try.

Erlendur pushed my back up against a tree, knocking the breath from my lungs. His annoyed look barely shifted to angry as I tried to scratch at his face, within seconds he held onto both my wrists.

"Let go of me! You piece of shit, I'll -" His hand covered my mouth, turning my words into muffled screams.

"Why are you fighting me?" he snarled. "I just want to talk. Calm down, no one can hear you anyway." He kept me pushed against the tree, using his body to keep me from moving around too much. "Can you keep still and not run away? Because there is something you should know about your brother." Despite the panic surging through me, I managed to nod. He removed his hand, then when I didn't scream, he distanced himself a little.

"Please, don't hurt me," I breathed. It took all my willpower to not try and run off again. I was scared to death, adrenaline the only thing that kept me strong enough to stand up.

"Ragnhild, I'm trying to save you. Tell me, what do you know of your brother?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"What? I don't understand, why would you ask me that? We grew up together, and then we came here. Why are you even asking me?"

"Because he's not who you think he is. You have to believe me. He fooled me as well, he's more cunning than anyone I know." He was confusing me even more. If anyone knew my brother, it was me. "When I met him he told me his name was Harbard, he pretended to be one of the Vanir. He told me you were his mortal sister, and he needed my help to get you away from Bjorn."

How would Jozef even manage to convince anyone of that? If anyone ever found out about that kind of deception, his life was forfeit. He would never risk it, he liked living too much. Besides, Erlendur would be smart enough to see through it.

"What are you trying to tell me? You're not making any sense." I jerked back my hand, but Erlendur's grasp on my wrist was too strong. He pushed me back into the tree again, breathing heavily. "Let go of me, if you just want to talk why do you keep restraining me?"

"Because I need to be sure that you won't run off before you understand. Ragnhild, I beg of you. You have to let me explain."

"You slice open my hand, you push me up against a tree, and now you ask me to trust you?" His eyes shot to my bleeding hand.

"I never meant to hurt you. Harbard fooled me, he fooled us all. He came to me when I was in Sweden, two moons ago." That was impossible. Whatever Erlendur was trying to pull, he was full of shit. "No, please, don't be like that. I'm telling you, he was there. He told me to come to Kattegat as soon as I could, that you were in danger. I don't… My memory is a bit misty, but I was certain it was him." He was delusional, he must have been seeing things. Visual hallucinations at best, maybe even psychosis or a manic episode. He was out of his mind, literally. At the least I knew how to get away from him, now. I had a chance, small as it was.

"Erlendur, calm down. I'm listening, what do you think is wrong with my brother?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw something approaching. I didn't dare take my eyes off of Erlendur, he was too frantic. His eyes were wild and flitted all over my face, not getting calm at all. I willed myself to stay calm, but I couldn't deny the throbbing feeling of my blood rushing through my veins. Every fiber of my body was ready to bolt, in the opposite direction of the approaching dark shade.

"You have to believe me, this… Ragnhild, the gods are playing a cruel game. You have to be careful. Your brother, he -" His lips twitched, but no sound came out. Erlendur coughed, spraying my face with blood. I took a step back, causing him to fall to the ground. As he fell, Bjorn came into sight.

The relief I felt was overwhelming. As the first tears welled up in my eyes I fell into his arms. He pulled me away from Erlendur and held me close, whispering my name. I wanted to hold him even tighter, cling to the feeling of safety he gave me.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he said. "When I heard you scream I was certain he was trying to hurt you." I let go of his shirt and showed him my bloody palm. It must have been a shallow cut as it wasn't bleeding anymore, but it hurt like a bitch.

"He lost his mind for some reason, I was terrified that he would kill me. How did you manage to follow us?" Bjorn grunted as he saw the wound and immediately tore off a piece of his shirt to wrap my hand with.

"I found your knife, it was pointed in this direction. I knew you'd never go off without leaving me some sort of clue." I looked up at him, not knowing what to think. "Ragnhild?"

"I… I thought it would be too dangerous. If Erlendur caught me leaving anything he would take off with the horse." I looked down at my bag, seeing the bottom was worn out. I should have repaired it, but it seemed that in this case, my lack of time and motivation may have saved my life. The fabric was shredded, and the hole on the bottom was just large enough for the long knife to fall through.

"Then the gods must have been with us." He pulled me close again, pressing his lips on my crown. "I prayed Freyja would keep you safe." For once, I didn't feel the desire to go against him on his bold claims about the gods. If it hadn't been for the knife, Bjorn would never have been able to find me.

As both of us calmed down, I saw Erlendur still had a sword sticking out of his back. Bjorn watched me like a hawk as I approached the body. After all the trouble he had caused us, I wanted to make sure he was truly dead. His eyes had glazed over, and the forest floor beneath us was soaked in blood. His pulse had gone.

"What will we tell Ragnar?" I asked. "He expects us to come back with him, alive." We still needed him to incriminate Jozef.

"We'll be fine. No man will judge me for protecting my wife." I hardly felt any sympathy for Ragnar at this point, but the way Erlendur had clung to his sudden hatred for my brother made me wary. Jozef was planning something, and it would be bad for Kattegat, for my family. Ragnar be damned, I still had plenty of children to protect.

"But he wasn't attacking me. He was insane, but he didn't mean to hurt me." I turned my head to see his hand as he reached out to my shoulder. "He wanted to warn me about Jozef. Whatever it was about, he was terrified. You can't say it was self-defense without angering the gods."

"Do you blame me for killing him before he told you?" I got up to my feet, seeing that familiar hard stare again.

"No. I love you for not taking any chances, and knowing I take too many for the both of us, as always." Bjorn put a hand in my neck, looking down at me with relief shining through his eyes.

"We'll need to have a proper talk about that soon. I can't keep saving you every time you go off with some other guy."

"We'll have to work on your entrance as well, if that's the case." Whatever he wanted to scold me over, I doubted anything like this would ever happen again. Everything that had happened came from the mistake I had made back on the ship when I came back from Paris. And now, finally, it was all behind us.

Bjorn flung Erlendur's limp body over the mare I had ridden and tied her reins to his own horse, then helped me up before he sat down behind me himself. I scowled a bit at the arrangement, but underneath I was happy to cuddle up to Bjorn as I told him of what had happened. He made sure to hold onto me tight as he sighed about the slow pace we would make.


	123. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31-08-803

When we came back to town, Ragnar refused to speak to us. All he saw was Erlendur's dead body, and that had been enough reason for him to ignore the both of us. Bjorn had made sure to reveal the fatal wound on Erlendur's back, and not just to adhere to the law of telling the first man you saw what you had done. It kept Ragnar from throwing me in jail alongside Jozef.

To be honest, I wasn't that distraught over Ragnar being mad. Because of his words, I had put myself in danger once again, and for that, I was pissed off. Not having him around meant I could focus on the twins, and patching up my relationship with Bjorn. We were in need of some quality time without the kingdom interfering.

"We need a plan for the Thing," Bjorn said after breakfast the next day. I had slept better, but not great in the grand scheme of things.

"I don't want to talk about Jozef right now." At least he had waited to speak up until I had finished my plate. These kinds of heavy subjects always cost me my appetite.

"We have no idea when Ragnar will call the Thing, we -"

"I want to talk about us." I put my hand on Bjorn's, longing to connect. "We've been through so much lately, and I want to know if there's something you want to talk about. I feel like you should be angry at me, but you're not." He kept his eyes on our hands, I could almost feel the blood drain away from him.

"I am. I just want this whole thing to be over first." As far as I was concerned it all ended with Erlendur. He had every right to be mad at me over all the mistakes I had made, but I kept silent, not wanting to force Bjorn to talk about it if he didn't want to. He did the same.

"So... Jozef. I'm still not convinced he did it for money." Bjorn eagerly jumped on the subject, daring to look me in the eye again. He hadn't moved his hand at all, not even a muscle.

"I'm not convinced, either. But there must be a reason. Him not wanting you to stay here means he wants you to be somewhere else," he said.

"He mentioned something about going back to the future once, but I'm not sure that's even possible. Either way, I don't want to. I want to stay here with you, and the children." Bjorn sighed, sounding unconvinced.

"I know. We'll have to talk to him, soon. Find out what he wants from you." I averted my eyes, even though I knew this was what he would say. As I retracted my hand, Bjorn did nothing to stop me.

"I'm not ready to face him. I can't deal with him, at all. Just..." Just kill him and be done with it. The words left a horrid taste on my tongue, even before I spoke them.

"Ragnhild, you have to." I wanted him to comfort me, but the empty space between our hands felt like a gaping void. It would close, but I had to fix this mess first. Then there would be all the time in the world to make amends. First I needed to face the consequences of my actions, only then could I work on fixing whatever problems lay between us.

"I know," I said with my eyes closed. "I just... I have no idea how to go about it. I'm terrified of making another mistake, I need your help. But I'm afraid to ask after all the risks I already took."

"It depends. What do you need help with?"

"I..."

"If you say you need me to trust you, I swear to the gods I'll let you deal with this on your own." I knew where it came from, but it wasn't fair to throw it in my face like that. If anything, I had been too preoccupied with the kingdom to worry about my own safety, even though Bjorn made it sound like I had gone out on a limb to stick to my own morals again.

"I need you to tell me what to do. I don't have a clue, I have no idea what he could want from me. He tried to use Erlendur to cause a rift between us, but it doesn't make any sense. Jozef wouldn't want me to end up with him, either, and it's not about the money. It's bigger somehow..." After all these years I started to pick at my nails again. I had gotten over it once I left home, but now I found myself unable to resist the smooth white edges at the end of my fingertips.

Bjorn pulled away my hand. For a split second I felt a surge of anger, then I realized how starved I was for him to touch me at all. The warmth between us had gone, and it hurt. I'd rather face a winter in the Interior than have this cold between us last a day longer.

"What can I help you with, then?" he asked.

"Help me come up with a plan to talk to him. Be there with me when I talk to him." I needed his calm, and his strength. Without him, I...

"I will. But only when we do it today. Now, preferably." Finally, I dared look him in the eye.

"What will we even say?"

"I'll let you talk about Erlendur, and we'll see where it goes from there. If he switches to Dutch, you know you have him where you want him." I exhaled sharply, feeling stupid for not having thought of it myself. It was so simple, it was sure to work.

"You're right. We'd better get it over with." As we left Bjorn made sure to wrap the white fox cloak around my shoulders, despite it being warm for this time of year. His hands fidgeted around my neck, as if he wanted to touch me but didn't want to give in. Like he was punishing himself for being kind to me at all. I didn't deserve it, not yet.

I lifted up my hands to grab hold of his arms, but he let go before I could touch him. Clearing his throat, he stood up straight and pulled open the door. I followed out, knowing this would be a painful day.

On our way over to the cell where Jozef was being held my mind kept drifting off to things I still needed to do. The rafters were getting dirty, I'd want to clean those before winter. I should wash all of our summer clothes as well, before I put them away for the winter, and start buying meats to cure. Bjorn had some cloaks that needed mending, and I should ask him to fix that darned chair that kept squeaking.

Before I knew it we had arrived. Bjorn signaled for me to enter, and somehow the thought of wanting to air out the sleeping furs calmed me enough to keep my cool when I sat face to face with Jozef. He lay on some straw, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't look like a captive, at all.

"I'm so happy you heard that I moved," he said with a smirk. "Ragnar told me it would be a while until we would see each other again, but it seems he was mistaken." I was dying to look at Bjorn, but I held back. His eagerness to have this over with must have had something to do with the lack of guards posted outside. If I let him down now by giving away the game he would never forgive me.

"What did you do? To end up here, I mean. I told you to lay low." Jozef cocked his head.

"Your husband didn't tell you?" he asked in Dutch. "It's like I said, he doesn't trust you. I got put in here on bogus charges, they have no way of proving anything. I didn't sleep with Aslaug again, I swear." I took a deep breath, then slowly let it go. The only way for Ragnar to prove that would be to have her pregnant with his child, admitting she had put him to shame, or someone who had caught them. Jozef would never be this confident if anyone had walked in on them, and the thought of Aslaug being pregnant by my brother...

"He would never put you in here for seducing his wife, there has to be more. Why won't you tell me the truth? Brother, this is serious. Ragnar plans to call a Thing and have you put on trial."

"Honey?" Bjorn made to reach out to me but I slapped his hand away. I needed to focus on Jozef, not get distracted by Bjorn for using a name he could understand.

"He's keeping you back. Can't you see? That oaf is keeping you from reaching your full potential. You don't need him." Jozef sat up straight and reached out his hand. The chains held it back from touching my face. "Please, let me touch you. I love you, you know that." I wasn't sure about anything anymore, but still I got close enough for him to touch me.

"Whatever you did, Ragnar doesn't trust me anymore. It feels like my marriage is falling apart. Please, Jozef. Tell me, what did you do? I need to make things right with Bjorn, before he leaves me." The hurt was so real it made my heart ache. Deep down I was terrified this was the end, or the beginning of it at least. It took all my willpower to keep from falling apart and see this for the fight it was. Bjorn and I could still recover, this wasn't as bad as my demons whispered it was.

Jozef's thumb brushed over my cheek. His eyes showed pity, but no regret.

"If I tell you, it might save your marriage... But it could end up killing me, as well." I closed my eyes, feeling the burn of tears forcing themselves to the surface. This was the choice the Seer had spoken about. And yet, I didn't feel regret.

"If I do nothing, chances are you'll die anyway. Jozef, I beg of you. I'm your only hope of making it out alive. You need to trust me like I trusted you to keep it in your pants." He chuckled as he sat back, his hair falling past his shoulders. It fell apart in greasy strands, I knew he took care to shower each day.

"I should've known better than to underestimate you. Sweet sister... I will die here for what I did, unless you help me escape."

"Where would you even go?" I asked. Jozef scrambled to his feet and reached out again, touching my cheek as if we were lovers. His face showed an agony I wasn't used to seeing on his face, or on anyone for that matter. It spoke of hurt older than time.

"England. You could come with me, and the twins as well. We'll escape this hellhole and forget all about it. We'll find a way home. We can become happy again, together." There it was. He had wanted to use Erlendur to get me away from Bjorn, so his hands would be clean. I wouldn't have blamed Jozef for destroying my marriage, not with Erlendur as a clear scapegoat.

"I don't know if I can ever be happy again. Not with Erlendur dead on my account." I knew Bjorn was watching us intently. It kept me from looking up to see Jozef's face myself. If it mattered, Bjorn would tell me how Jozef had reacted. I could trust him.

"From what I heard, Erlendur's death was coming for a long time. It was never about you, you know better than me how these people are with revenge. They'll kill you for stealing their lunch." Had I known what kinds of things I would one day see and do, I would have been scared out of my mind when I first got here. But I had changed, in a way Jozef didn't seem to understand. He didn't know me anymore.

"No, that's not..." The desire to negate anything he said was so strong I didn't even have an argument yet. "Not everyone is like that."

"There are those worthy of your love, but they're not Viking. Help me, so I can help you. I can save you from this abominable life, all you have to do is help me get out of here." He might as well have asked for the moon.

He wanted me to burn whatever bridges were left to me, defy Ragnar in the worst possible way, leave Bjorn and take the children without him knowing about it, in the middle of the night. The boys would never see my face again, nor would my friends.

"You ask for too much. I can't leave my life here behind, I won't go with you." He tried to hide it, but his eyes told me how furious he was. He had never been able to hide his feelings from me, not since I learned to read his eyes.

"Then will you help me escape, at least?" I bit my lip, sensing it would be a bad idea to tell him the truth. Even with him in chains, I didn't feel safe from him. "You'd leave me to die here?"

"No! I don't want you to die, I just... With the twins, and winter coming, I need to think about this. Don't think I want you dead, please. I need time to come up with a plan."

"I don't have that much left. In case you didn't notice, I am on death row for sleeping with the wrong woman." He knew just what to say to make me pity him. Had it been as simple as he said, I would have been his staunchest supporter. I tore my eyes away and got up, Bjorn following closely behind.

"What did he say?" Bjorn asked when we were at the beach. "Did you find out what he wants?"

"I did... I don't understand why, but he wants me to help him escape and set sail for England." I pulled up my knees, waiting for Bjorn to respond. Judging by the lack of comforting words he had a storm brewing in his own head.

The dark water of the fjord was eerily calm. Most days there was wind blowing, bringing in a briny scent from the sea, but now it was completely calm. Not even a bird called out, and the trees were completely still. It was like time stood still. The sky was dark, though, telling me a storm was coming. The gods were watching. I could feel their presence.

"That can't be it," Bjorn said. "Something else is going on, if he wanted to protect you, he -"

"He thinks you're a threat to my happiness. He's got it all wrong, of course he'll say things we can't understand. I have no idea what's going on in his head." If anyone was a threat to me, it was myself. The longer this all dragged on, the worse it felt. Moreover, the longer Jozef was alive, the more he would manipulate me, even without me knowing. I was a danger to my family, as well. "What do we do now?"

Bjorn wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close.

"We let things run their course. We have to trust in the gods." I glanced up again, seeing Bjorn was looking out over the water as well. I felt like I had to say something, but I couldn't find the right words.

I had been wrong before. Having Bjorn at a distance felt horrible, but to hold him and not really have him with me was torture. I kept telling myself it was all in my head, but I couldn't shake the feeling something was off between us, something that needed more than time to heal.

"Jozef, he... We need to..."

"He'll get his due." The hope I was trying to build up dissipated again, leaving me to sulk in my own embrace as Bjorn pulled back his arm again. "What did he have to say about Erlendur?"

"He barely mentioned him. He just said that there are people worthy of my love, but none of them are Viking."

"I understood that part." I raised my head as he kept silent. I had expected him to continue, rant on what a callous idiot my brother was, but he kept still. All he did was stand up, staring out over the fjord.

"Bjorn?" He kept his eyes on the horizon, frowning. "Bjorn." Desperation was close to the surface. It tried to overtake me, turn me into a soft mush of tears and emotion, and it pulled at me to do anything to make Bjorn react. I needed him to see me, to touch me and feel that I was alive, that I mattered to him. Only when I got up and stood by his side, wanting to slap him so he would finally look at me, did he respond.

"A ship is coming. It's not a merchant." I was hard-pressed to even see a sail at all, but Bjorn already headed for the dock.

"Who is it?" The idea of this being the one who helped Erlendur take over Hedeby came to mind, and immediately I pushed it down. I was in no state to see through hidden plots or spot hidden meanings in subtle turns of phrases.

"Blue sails. Go get Ragnar." Blue sails meant Hedeby. Was it Lagertha, returned at last? Why would she come here? I rushed over to the hall, leaving Bjorn and the soft pain that tore at my heart behind in the sand. I had to focus, but my mind was elsewhere, thinking of what I had learned from Vinh when she tried to see if I could help her collect herbs. Inside, Ragnar was not in the mood to talk to me, or even hear me speak.

"Ragna -"

"You've had plenty of opportunity to talk to me, get lost. I don't want to see you until the trial." He hadn't even specified a time or a day for it, even though the whole town knew it was coming.

"Bjorn asked me to -"

"Silence! I know you've been to see your brother. Do you really think that was a wise decision? I should put you in chains next to him! Get out!" He threw his arm up in the air, but I wouldn't let him push me around like this, not on something unrelated.

"Let me finish!" Ragnar looked taken aback by my firm stance. Over the last few days, I had been nothing but demure and passive, but I had to get him to listen to me, now. "Lagertha might be coming here." His anger fell away. "There's a ship with blue sails coming here, and Bjorn said it's not a merchant ship. He asked me to come and get you."

Without a word he brushed past me on his way out. I sighed, debating if I wanted to join them at all. He wasn't the only one who preferred me to stay back for a while. A small, greasy hand found mine, making me look down with a smile.

"Why is father mad at you?" Hvitserk asked. "We heard him shouting about you last night." I sank to my knees and hugged him tightly.

"Because I made a mistake, and it was a bad one. I'm trying to make up for it, but it's taking a bit longer than usual." His dirty hands clawed into my hair, but I didn't mind. With Bjorn and me on the outs, any form of human contact was a great relief.

"Who is coming here?" he asked.

"I think it might be Lagertha, but I'm not sure."

"Well, let's go see, then!" He pulled on my hand before I even got to my feet again. "Ubbe, Sigurd! Someone's coming!" Sigurd refused to get up, sticking to his game of hiding things underneath the tables. Ubbe was happy to join, and before I knew it they dragged me off to the beach with nothing but their smiles and enthusiasm.

On the beach, Ragnar and Bjorn had confirmed it was someone from Hedeby. I stayed back a little, keeping Hvitserk close to me by braiding a few loose strands of his hair. Ubbe's hair was too short, and he loved standing next to Bjorn and his father, acting the part of an adult. If only he knew how horrible that could be, he wouldn't be in such a rush.

"Sweig told me there are huge fish in the ocean, and that they can blow water from the top of their heads," Hvitserk said. "Do you know how big they can get?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. They can get as tall as two ships, maybe even three. Some villages hunt them, like where king Harald comes from. But they don't blow out water, that's air. The water that leaks into the hole gets blown out along with it, they take a deep breath and can then swim underwater for at least an hour."

"I knew you heard about them. You're smart like that, you know everything." I cocked my head a little.

"Really, now? Just last week you laughed at me because I didn't know how far it is to Uppsala from here." He tried to lower his head a bit, but he had to keep his head straight if I was to have the braids come out the same length.

"But you're sad. I should tell you things that make you smile, right? That's what Torstein said." I had to chuckle, knowing what kind of things Hvitserk must have been overhearing.

"That's so sweet of you, thank you." He turned his head around to see if I was smiling.

"It's not Lagertha," I heard Bjorn say. It made me look up, but all three of them kept staring ahead. I finished Hvitserk's hair and kissed him on his head, enjoying how he marveled in his manly braids. Aslaug didn't take the time to do these kinds of things anymore.

"Who is that?" Ubbe asked. I looked up again, but Ragnar blocked my sight. The thump of a walking board hitting the dock sounded, causing Ragnar to start walking. I saw Torvi's face in between the limbs, and for a moment I forgot about all the bad things in my life.

"Torvi," Ragnar said in his king's voice. "What brings you to Kattegat?"

"I have business with Ragnhild." The smile ran away from my face. "It seems I'm short a husband, I was hoping she might be able to help."

"You know already?" Ragnar asked. "He only died yesterday..." Torvi's face didn't betray a thing. She hadn't known, she couldn't have. This was about something different, that was very sensitive.

"Like I said, I have business with the vessel. We'll talk afterward." Ragnar glanced around, seeing only my recovered, placid face.

"Still, I have to ask. Lagertha, did she..."

"She hasn't returned yet. Whatever she is doing, it had better bring us great fortune. The people are growing restless." She walked up to me then, taking my hands in hers.

"Torvi. I take it you want to go somewhere private?" She nodded, the corners of her mouth betraying her desire to be inside.

Despite her being married to Erlendur, she looked well. Her furs were new, her hair was on point for a widower, and somehow she looked more like a queen than I did. Erlendur couldn't have left her with much, someone else must have been taking care of her.

"You look horrible," she whispered as we made our way to my house.

"I'm not sleeping well. I'll tell you all about it inside." It felt amazing to have Torvi around again, even though I didn't know what I could do to help her. Inside, we threw off our cloaks. She made her way over to the crib, but the twins were over at the hall. I busied myself making tea, feeling up to a cup of comfort myself.

"The usual?" I asked as I tried to find the sweet blend she liked.

"No, I'm here for the other one." I turned around, seeing her hands slide over her belly. It was clear there was a child in there, now she didn't wear her cloak. "Is it too late?" I sighed and dove into the cabinet again, putting the tea away.

"How far along are you?" I asked as I got up and made my way over. It was visible, but not that obvious yet.

"It's Erlendur's. I need it gone, I'm glad that he is dead but I can't hope to find a new husband when I already have Guthrum to take care of. Ragnhild, please. I can't have this baby and still provide for me and my son. I can't bear the fruit of two traitors." She didn't mourn Erlendur at all. It was her worry for her living son that made the corners of her mouth twitch as she told me what bothered her.

"Of course I'll help you, that's not even a question. But some things are beyond me, there are risks."

"Then why did you put away the tea?"

"Because that's not strong enough. If you're certain it's Erlendur's, that child is already close to six moons inside of you. The tea loses its potency when it's dried, which makes it safer to use. But the fresher the tea is, the more danger it holds." It was a delicate balance in and of itself, and the tendency of the flowers to wildly vary how poisonous they were made it impossible to call it a science.

"I'm certain of this. I need this child gone, as soon as possible."

"You could die. You could lose your fertility. You could suffer through pain for the rest of your life. If someone finds out about what you asked me to do, you could get ostracized." And me along with it, but I had made my peace with that long ago, when the first woman in need came to me. They were the only ones I counted. Torvi would be the twenty-seventh. Five had died, and seven had carried to term regardless. From another five I hadn't heard back at all.

"I know. I still want to continue." I took a deep breath, needing a cup of tea after all.

"Then we'll head out to the forest in a bit, under the guise of a walk to catch up. As far as anyone else is concerned, you came here to ask for advice on getting married again, no one will suspect a thing as long as you keep your cloak on when you're outside." Torvi took a deep breath herself, then nodded her head.

"Well, if we have some time to kill… Do you mind telling me how my husband died?" I chuckled and launched into the story of why I had slept so poorly, how my faith in Harbard had turned out to be a bad call, the blowback it had caused on my marriage.

"And then you showed up. So, yeah. It's been a bit hectic." Torvi stared at me, not knowing what to make of the story.

"You... Bjorn killed Erlendur, to save you."

"Yes. He was losing his mind, spouting nonsense, asking me what I was... I still don't get it. He seemed fine the day before, but yesterday he suddenly lost it."

"Ragnhild, you can't be serious. The one conversation I had with Erlendur after he got back was when he told me he was done with you, and Kattegat. He just wanted to live out his life in peace and find a love that wasn't forced on him, or would burn him. He got dragged into it again after Einar got a visit, then he and his family forced Erlendur to cooperate. He spoke the truth, they were threatening to kill me and our child." Now I was left to blink and stare into the depths ahead.

"No, but..."

"That wanderer caused all of this, if he hadn't urged Einar to make a move... He could never have made it up himself, that wanderer was responsible for everything." A wanderer in Denmark… I didn't believe in fairy tales, but this was just too much of a coincidence.

"Don't say another word, I mean it. Ragnar needs to hear what you want to tell me, first. I know I never asked for something in return for my help, from anyone, but I beg of you. Tell all of this to Ragnar, and speak up at the Thing. You could save my marriage, please. I'll help you either way, but you could put all of this to bed for me."

"I... Ragnhild, I can't... They will ask me for proof of my pregnancy. I can't risk it, this child needs to die." I knew why she was hesitant, I would feel the same. Having to show her pregnancy, only to have a planned miscarriage in the next few days… But I needed her help if I was to save my marriage.

The more I thought about it, the clearer it became in my head. Jozef had gone to great lengths to get me and Bjorn to stop trusting each other, and I had taken it further and further as Bjorn stood back, watching me make mistake after mistake. No wonder he was pissed at me.

"We'll go out to the forest like we planned. Your safety comes first, all I ask is that you consider helping me in return. The things you know can put that wanderer to death, he's the reason for all of this to happen. He is the one to come between me and Bjorn, I don't know how he did it, but..." She took my hands in hers again. "I don't want my marriage to end, please…"

I felt awful, putting this burden on her shoulders. It was unfair, and if anyone had asked me to do the same I would have laughed at them. Even asking Torvi to take such a risk to her own person was beyond me, had it concerned anything else. But I had to try, I didn't want to lose Bjorn. I had to give it my all, and this was it.

"Who am I to deny a vessel to the gods?" Torvi said with a smile. It made me feel uneasy, like I was using my position to get ahead. It felt more like catching up at this point, but still.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what I'll do if he ever gets out again, I'm terrified that he'll hurt my family even more." Now that I knew what he was capable of, I was certain. Jozef would die here in Kattegat, and I didn't care who did it. Ragnar could use his axe, Bjorn could tear out his liver...

"Thank you so much... I needed a friend so badly, and then the gods sent you. I'll never forget this."

"I'll speak to Ragnar right away, we can head out to the forest afterward." I knocked over my cup when I got up to hug her. I didn't even bother to clean it up before we went towards the hall.

Ragnar was more than happy to talk to Torvi when she told him she had information regarding Jozef, leaving me and Bjorn alone with the kids. The tension between us was reaching a breaking point, but I needed Bjorn to tell me why he was angry with me himself. I had asked about it this morning, pushing him now wouldn't do any of us any good.

"I think Thormund is almost ready to walk," Bjorn said to break the ice. "Did you know?" I had, but I put on a smile and said no. Eager to show off our son, Bjorn picked him up and put him on his feet. With a few encouraging words from me, sitting a few small paces away, Thormund wobbled as he put a foot forward, holding onto Bjorn's fingers with both hands for dear life. As his confidence grew, so did his joy.

He had a wonderful smile and cooed as he tried to get to me. Teaching the twins how to walk and go potty was incredibly gratifying, and the one safe topic for me and Bjorn to talk about without making things awkward.

"Oh, you're such a big boy already! Look at you go, I'm so proud of you." I almost teared up, grasping at everything that gave me a shred of joy at all. The twins were wonderful to have around on that account, even if their teething woke us up every now and then. Seeing them grow and learn how to understand the world was a wonder to behold.

And this, to see my son walking towards me, firmly holding onto Bjorn's fingers at the third step, it was beautiful. It made it all worth to me.

Thormund made two quick steps, then fell into my arms. Bjorn looked down at us with a huge smile on his face, and for a moment all was well.


	124. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost certain I'm able to be back to my regular schedule, enjoy!
> 
> 01-09-803

Torvi insisted on drinking the tea straight away, bringing water to a boil in a small cup she had brought. The small fire she made was crackling as I hesitated over which flowers to pick to make sure it would work, while at the same time keeping chances high enough for her to survive so I could live with myself.

"Ragnhild, the water is ready." The flowers all held their own dose, and there was no way of testing which one was highest in toxins. People died from assuming the smaller ones were less lethal and gave birth after assuming the larger ones were sure to do the trick.

"How many days? How bad are your symptoms?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter. I'm pregnant, that's not getting any less without your help."

"It does," I insisted, lying to keep myself calm. "I don't want to kill you, okay? Let's go with this one for starters." I picked the second largest flower in the bunch and let it fall down into Torvi's cup.

"What do you mean, for starters?"

"We work up. Start with one flower, see how your body reacts to it. If you haven't bled yet by tomorrow afternoon, we'll try with those two flowers over there, and if that doesn't work, we end with that small one. If it doesn't work after that, it's a sign from the gods. Besides, your body can't handle more." The toxins would build up in her body and cause her liver to shut down if she took too much. By the time she would recover, if at all, the baby would be born already.

"You didn't tell me that."

"I'm telling you now. There is a limit to what I can do for you, and I don't pretend to be above the gods." We stared at each other for a moment, and I felt we had reached an impasse. If Torvi so desired she could head out again and find the flower herself, taking all she could before she would die. I wouldn't help her kill herself if she thought to go out on her own, but I would mourn her. But if she would survive after a long sickbed, she could risk all the other women's chances of ever getting yellow tea from me, in exchange for losing her child.

She looked down and blew in her tea. There was no doubt in her mind, at all. I envied her lack of doubt, then reminded myself this was her choice to make.

"Is there anything you need to do before I can drink it?"

"I could pretend to do some incantation, but in truth the tea will suffice. It was given to us by the Vanir, after all." They were known for their love of all things growing, and if this herb grew on Midgard it meant the gods would forgive me for helping women get rid of their unwanted pregnancies.

Torvi nodded gravely, then burned her tongue on the first sip. I knew it was bitter, I'd heard it plenty of times before. She wasn't the first to ask me for help, and I hoped she wouldn't be the last I could offer my help to.

"How long until it works?"

"There's no way to be certain. Some throw up immediately, while others may take a few days to feel the effect. Eating garlic may help, but you'll hardly stomach the taste. If your body tells you to take it slow, heed its advice, but keep active. You'll get feverish regardless of what happens." Torvi nodded again and downed the rest of the cup, as if to find her determination on the bottom of it. So much for her being completely certain of wanting to risk her life.

"If I die..."

"Guthrum will be taken care of. I could find a quiet village if you like, or -"

"I want you to raise him. I need him to be surrounded by my friends, and he has to see what family is like. If you send him off, he'll never hear about me. I need him to know who I was." It wasn't exactly in my own best interest to take the boy in, but for a friend, one of the few I had, I would. I'd fight Bjorn over it later.

"I will take him in, but only if you die. Come on, let's hide the evidence. There's no use leaving any more clues than necessary here." Torvi was an expert at hiding clues or making them hard to read and enjoyed teaching me a few tricks. It served to get our minds off of the rest of the day, at least. The Thing was to be held later today, after Ragnar heard what Torvi had to say.

On our way back to town Torvi told me about the man she'd been seeing, who loved to show her around the forests of Hedeby. Ever since her divorce she had been putting herself out there, but the man had backed off when he found out she had been married once before. He had no desire to be the third in a string of bad marriages. I couldn't see how anyone could be that superstitious, but it wasn't the first time I was confronted with such a tale.

"See that? Someone's been having sex there regularly. You can tell by the way the grass is flattened, in different angles."

"Huh." I cocked my head and thought back to when this spot was mine and Bjorn's. Someone had taken over our territory, or must have figured it was a good spot like we had. Ever since Bjorn had returned, we hadn't done our best to make it exciting, to say the least.

"Are you truly scared of losing him? Didn't you see how he looked at you when your boy was walking?" She had to work on her delivery. It was hardly subtle.

"Please, don't. I can't wait for all of this to be over. Bjorn said we'd talk afterward, and I can't wait for that to happen." Torvi jerked back my arm.

"What do you mean? Do you want that wanderer to die?" I sighed and looked up at the sky. Would the gods forgive me?

"For all I shared with you, there are things I cannot say out loud. The wanderer has brought relief, but also chaos and regret. The Seer told me so, and his words were true. Harbard went too far."

"Ragnhild... Did he rape you?" I gave her an incredulous look, stopping dead in my tracks.

"What? No! Not everything is about rape, what makes you say that?"

"Because it's one of the worst things to happen to a woman. You made it sound like he ruined your life. Don't scare me like that." We continued walking.

"It's not the worst thing to happen, but it's pretty high up there." Torvi kept quiet as she brushed over her stomach. "That one for example, or losing a child you do want. Everything can always get worse, but we all judge by the things we know."

"What are you talking about?" Bjorn would have noticed I was spouting things that made me feel smart, but Torvi didn't know me as he did. If anything, it made me more confused about everything.

"Nothing. I'm a little lost in thought, is all. Are you feeling confident about the Thing?"

"I'll be glad to have it over with, if I'm honest. I have other things to worry about. Though I must admit, it's good to see you again." I smiled as I looked ahead, seeing the world was cast into fall, even before the equinox. Some said this would mean a harsh winter, while others said it would be more soft than usual.

"I'm glad you're doing well, given the circumstances. I'd invite you for dinner, but I'm sure Ragnar extended his hospitality already."

"He was adamant, in fact. I'm sure he'll be less intent on keeping me close after the Thing, or at the least for a different reason." I glanced her way, but she kept her soft smile to herself. Why would Ragnar take an interest in her?

As we walked back I picked some flowers for the house, making it a colorful collection with all Fall had to offer. Even some things better left unpicked.

"I've never seen those white flowers before. What are they called?" Torvi asked.

"I'm not sure to be honest. I just like the color." It was hemlock, the kind I had heard Vinh rave on about once that it was dangerous. Even I knew not to bother with it, much less touch it without wearing gloves. Torvi wanting to hide her pregnancy with a cloak was the perfect excuse for me to dress up for winter, as well. Just touching it was dangerous.

"Then what if it's poisonous?" I slowly turned to face Torvi, not liking her questions.

"They're just for decorating. The twins are too young to get to them, anyway. What does it matter?" I hid my fears behind a toothy smile.

"They are lively," she agreed. She didn't press me on the subject, but I was certain she had her suspicions.

That afternoon, I agreed to leave the twins at home by themselves, of my own accord. Bjorn almost didn't believe me, and it took all my strength to go against my maternal instincts, but I did it. We got to the hall when it was still filling up, and it didn't take me long to want to run back home and check on them when I realized I still had some time.

Ragnar noticed my nervousness and gave me a smug smile in response. He came up to me and chose now to confront me about it all.

"You aren't getting cold feet, are you?" He loomed over me, while I was already uncertain. My mind went back to when I was still terrified of him, and I couldn't understand how I had ever gotten past it. He could snap me like a twig if I gave the wrong answer.

"I don't know what you're talking about. In case you haven't noticed, I left the twins behind for the first time."

"An empty gesture, if you meant to placate my son. You know he resents you for what you did." That was exactly what I feared. Bjorn not being able to forgive my mistakes, the endless fights continuing like they had for the past few weeks, and then… Would he leave me over it?

"Ragnar, please. Not tonight, let me focus on the trial. I don't need your hostility. Have you seen Bjorn?" Ragnar grunted and nodded towards the back, much to my relief. Knowing where Bjorn was made all of this easier as well. I kept on fingering the package in my pocket, glad to throw anyone off my nervousness by telling them I worried over the twins.

Bjorn was talking to Torvi in hushed tones, looking like he wouldn't notice when I called out to him. They were no doubt discussing something white that could be found in the forest, that was now on the kitchen table, short a few petals. Torvi was smart enough to realize what I was planning to do, I had to hope for the best. Bjorn would try and stop me if he figured out what I meant to do, but I was banking on the fact that he wouldn't believe Torvi.

Having to use the children to get this to work was worst of all. They provided the perfect cover for my nerves, all there was to do now was to wait and let it all play out, and then finally I could talk to Bjorn.

The plan was wonky at best, but I had to see it through. Failure was not an option now. As the hall filled with people, I managed to distract myself a little. Helga and Floki had made it in time, carrying Angrboda with them. The girl eyed me warily, not remembering who I was yet. Still, I held her with a smile, happy to give Helga and Floki a small reprieve of being a parent. They were eager to be off with other adults, while I consoled myself for what I was about to do.

"Everything is going to be okay, you hear me? Your parents love you, and they love me. We won't be alone, ever. There will always be people who love us, and protect us." The girl grew tired from my soothing voice, closing her eyes as she rested her head on my chest. To have another child with Bjorn, and have it sleep on my chest like Angrboda did…

"Ragnhild?" Bjorn put his hands on my hips, resting his head on my shoulder. I hummed in acknowledgment, loving how light Angrboda still was. She was barely a few months old. "Whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that I love you."

I almost dropped the baby. Just in time the strength in my arms returned and I held her tight, the smell of her head soothing my mind. It was different from the twins' smell, a bit sweeter.

"Why would you say such a thing?" I asked, genuinely confused. Before he could respond, Ragnar called the Thing to order.

"Because I -" Bjorn sighed when he got a nasty look from Ragnar.

"Bring in the defendant!" Ragnar called out. I felt like running, leaving all of this behind. I wasn't ready, my plan was going to fail, I would get caught. Meanwhile, Jozef walked in at a leisurely pace, as if nothing was wrong, at all. He didn't wear fetters, and he was clean, as if he hadn't been trapped for days. He looked smug, way too confident, but innocent.

In fact, he strutted right up to me.

"You didn't come for me," he whispered. "You left me to rot in that cell." I felt Bjorn take his distance from me, his hands leaving my body. I had to stay strong, if I pulled this off Bjorn would know how much I loved him. We would have a chance again, despite Jozef's interference.

"I didn't have any time. Please, just tell them the truth. Whatever they're accusing you of, you didn't do it. You'll get out of this, I promise." He leaned in closer, forcing me to remind myself that it wasn't a promise but a white lie. The gods would forgive me, they had to.

"If you don't help me get out of this, I'll tell Ragnar where we're from. I know he's been curious." This was a threat against me, against Bjorn, and against the twins. My heart stopped, and at that moment, I knew I was right to kill him.

"I'll do my best, you know that. Now go stand trial, I'll get you a beer. You look like you could use one." He turned to face Ragnar, at last. I didn't miss the unforgiving look on his face, nor the questions that lingered on Bjorn's at the Dutch we just spoke.

I handed Angrboda to him, then put a hand to his chest.

"It's okay. He just asked me to get him a drink." He sighed, shaking his head as he saw me go.

"Harbard. You stand here, accused of treason. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Could you be a bit more specific?" Jozef asked. The room fell silent, leaving me an opportunity to reach into my pocket and get out the three little white flowers I had picked from the bouquet. The tiny hastily sewn strip of fabric was harder to tear apart than I imagined, and only at the gasping sounds of the crowd at Jozef's denial of all charges did I manage to tear free the flowers. The nearest mug turned into a murder weapon soon enough, and as I made my way through the crowd I was careful not to let a drop spill. If the boys would touch it...

Hemlock was extremely poisonous, and everyone knew. Just a description of the flower was enough to have Bjorn understand what I was planning on doing, but for now he seemed intent on whispering to Torvi while he kept his eyes on Jozef. They ignored the pointed looks Ragnar must have been giving them.

"No, no no, wait. You can't just decide that I can't have someone to speak on my behalf. I have rights, and I demand a fair trial. If anyone can attest to my character, it's Ragnhild. I ask that she speaks on my behalf." He dragged me up front and slung an arm around my shoulder, almost making me spill the beer.

Ragnar saw how terrified I was, if only for a second. I stood tall, knowing I would have to stall until Jozef had downed his beer, and then some. Birgritta from the herb stand had once explained to me why hemlock was such a nasty way to go, in the first place. Jozef would suffer, before he died.

"Harbard speaks true," I said with a clear voice. "He has that right, and if he so asks I will speak on his behalf. I was there when Floki and Helga's daughter was born. Vinh had taken ill that day, and Harbard took over without complaint. Helga complimented him on his skill afterward." Bearing a grand smile, Jozef took a few swallows.

"Thank you, Ragnhild," Ragnar said, but I wasn't done yet. I had to stall, come hell or high water. Jozef had to die, I couldn't leave it to chance.

"There's more. He has helped prince Ivar with his pain, who now sleeps through the night. All of us know how much the boy has suffered, and all of us have seen how much the boy has improved. Harbard also saved Ubbe and Hvitserk from drowning, the day Siggy died." I looked around, noticing how humble Jozef tried to look, and how annoyed Ragnar was.

The hall went silent, to the point I could hear a pin drop. Jozef gulped down the rest of his horn, angering Ragnar. No one was supposed to drink during a Thing, but Jozef knew just how far he could go. It was a game to him, one he had loved to play with our father.

"Siggy, she..."

"She died trying to save your sons," I confirmed. "Then, Harbard risked his life. In return, Queen Aslaug sent him off, instead of feasting him." It wasn't a lie, not by far. Ragnar shot a look to the side, seeing Ubbe and Hvitserk had run off long before. Aslaug looked down in shame, refusing to meet anyone's eye.

"Well, after these lovely words I'm sure you can all see that I'm not the kind of guy who would keep the company of scum like Erlendur," Jozef said. He looked pompous as shit., and for good reason. The people present seemed to see him in a new daylight, altogether.

"Then how come I have a witness that tells me otherwise?" Ragnar asked. The crowd held its breath as Torvi came forward. Jozef winked at me as I backed away, seeing Bjorn was more than disappointed in me. Helga had taken Angrboda out of his arms, but he refused to hold me, or even touch me. I told myself this was for the best. It was a small sacrifice to feel like the loneliest person in here, if it would save my marriage.

"One witness? Against such a glowing testimony, from the vessel of Freyja?" Ragnar finally wizened up and refused to play along with Jozef's games. Not that it mattered, the rate at which he was drinking was astounding. Even if he didn't ingest him, the petals would work their seidr.

"Torvi. Have you seen this man before?"

"I did. His name is Harbard. He got Einar to threaten Erlendur. He meant to have me and the child I bear killed, if Erlendur wouldn't take over Hedeby." She played her part perfectly, putting her hand on her stomach as she spoke of it. The crowd gasped as they poked each other, pointing at her swelling belly, swaying favor against Jozef again. He noticed and tried another approach.

"I have never been to Hedeby in my life!"

"But you were at the edge," Torvi shot back. "You're always at the edge, keeping your own hands clean. I heard you talking to Erlendur once, you meant to have Lagertha killed if she gave you too much trouble."

I could feel the tide turning against Jozef even better now. The town still loved Lagertha, remembered her radiant presence and wise ruling, the help she offered in Paris, and when Jarl Borg had invaded. She had given them Bjorn, and Bjorn had given them a new generation through which Kattegat would thrive. Jozef overestimated his odds of making it out alive.

"You have no proof of that," Jozef sneered. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I am Torvi Olafursdottir, former wife to Jarl Borg, and former wife to prince Erlendur. I am here to avenge his death, and I have reason to believe you are behind the murder of my child's father." I shot Bjorn a glance, seeing he was just as nervous as me.

"Erlendur?" Jozef scoffed. "That traitor? Why should we believe his widow?" His eyes showed malice, as if he had hoped to be the one to break the news to her and have her break down. He knew nothing of how strong Torvi was.

"You forced him to become a traitor. I hold no love for him, but he was my husband. We were bound together by the sanctity of marriage when this child was conceived. I know he had no intention of coming back to Kattegat before you met."

"Again I ask, what proof do you have?" Jozef was feeling too confident about this, by far.

"I have no reason to lie. I came here to seek justice for the murder of my child's father."

"I didn't kill him, though," Jozef said. It was as much of a confession as we would ever get.

"I did," Bjorn admitted. No, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be right, ever. "And I will face the consequences of my actions, as will you. You conspired to overthrow my mother, earl Ingstad, and then you came here to overthrow my father. Erlendur was insane when he died, he hurt my wife." I tried to get to Bjorn, but he slowly shook his head, barely noticeable. Jozef stood only a little way off, trying to hide his grin. He would at least take out Bjorn as he went down. No matter his station, murder was murder. If Bjorn was found to be guilty of wanton murder, he could... Ragnar would be forced to...

"Well?" Ragnar demanded. "What do you have to say for yourself, wanderer? Do you deny these allegations?" He coughed. Jozef cleared his throat, which was starting to show a rash. The poison was working. I should have forced a handful down his throat, poisoned him sooner... Anything that would have kept Bjorn from admitting he was a killer. Bjorn was the tribute the gods demanded for me to be rid of my brother, and I wasn't ready to pay that price.

"There is no proof, at all! Where is your evidence that I have conspired against Lagertha, and then came here to assist Erlendur in his attempt to overthrow you?" He didn't know how this worked, at all. We had a witness, and that was enough. "I cannot possibly have aided Erlendur, as I was here in town when he made his journey here. Whatever you think happened, it is impossible. I cannot be convicted of conspiring with Erlendur when the whole town is my alibi." Jozef's argument was convincing to me. Erlendur had spouted some nonsense about meeting him two moons back, when Erlendur was still in Sweden. It hadn't been possible yesterday, and today even less so.

"It only takes five days by ship to get to Hedeby from here," Ragnar pointed out. "You could have been hiding Erlendur for a long time." Jozef scoffed again, but no one was laughing with him. "We have a witness that accuses you of conspiracy to commit treason in Hedeby, and a witness that confirms you have put Erlendur under some sort of seidr. If you can't defend yourself, there is but one thing for me to do. All in favor of a guilty verdict, say aye." Ragnar raised his hand, and in a steady motion the crowd raised their hands as well. I was the last to raise it, looking Jozef in the eye as I did.

He raised a hand, silencing the crowd. For some reason he was still smiling, almost… Benevolent. As if he had been hoping for this outcome.

"It seems I'm… Out of options, here. There is but one thing left for me to do." He coughed again, causing him to frown. I should have gone with more poison, he would have time to spill our secret. I needed to stall, but I was at a loss. The verdict had been felled, no one could speak on the case anymore. "If you think I'm the only one guilty of crimes, look no further. There's plenty of songs I can sing about your Vessel." The whispered hush from the crowd wasn't enough to drown out his coughing. He covered his mouth with a hand, and it came back with consumption.

"Lies," I said. "You're lashing out at those who spoke up for you, trying to take me down with you. The gods will smite you for telling these falsehoods." He tried to get to me, but Bjorn held him back, his eyes intently looking at me. He knew something big was happening, and I was powerless to come up with more words to stall.

"Ragnhild has been lying to you, all of you! She's been keeping secrets, but the one she never speaks of are her own! She killed her father! She slept with women! Couwtess men, as well! I'w sjow wou..." Jozef's eyes were looking at me intently. He knew I was responsible, but his words got drowned by his coughing and slurred speech as he tried to accuse me, his body shaking as if possessed. Jozef tried to roll his shoulders to get free, but he went to his knees instead. As he looked up at me, his eyes begged me to have mercy on him. "Rag... Fe..."

His body dropped to the floor with a thud. I was the first to sink to my knees, putting my fingers on his throat as I pulled up his collar. Just as sudden as the tremors had started, they stopped. In a trance-like state I approached him and put my fingers on his jugular vein. I felt no movement. My brother had died. I couldn't move, couldn't feel, couldn't see anything aside from his eyes looking up at me.

"Liar!"

"The gods struck him down!"

"Filthy bastard!"

Only when Ragnar put a hand on my shoulder did I wake from my trance. I got to my feet and turned to face him.

"Ragnar… What happened?" Already I felt my skin tingling, just from touching Jozef's skin. Hemlock was even more dangerous than I thought. I had to get rid of the cup as well, and without anyone knowing.

"I was about to ask you the same," he said. Curiosity was all over his face.

"He… he's gone." My breathing grew heavy. "He's dead." The reality of it all sunk in. He was no longer a threat. He could no longer harm me. He was out of my life. My body relaxed a bit. I took in a deep breath and steadied myself.

"It seems the gods still favor you. Do you know what he was about to say?"

"I do," I whispered. "He wanted to tell everyone where we came from." It made no sense to lie about any of it now.

"Then it seems the gods don't want me to know yet." Ragnar seemed to be satisfied with the explanation. With a nod of his head he got Floki to drag off the body.

"I don't ever want to see his face again," I whispered as Floki bent down. He grunted, then got to work.

"It seems the gods are watching us," Ragnar told the crowd. They were surprisingly calm, for having witnessed the gods smiting someone. Only Aslaug looked on in horror as Floki dragged Jozef off by an ankle. I stood back, not wanting anyone to get the idea I was overly concerned with this. My mind was reeling from everything that had just happened, how close by disaster had been.

The Seer was suddenly standing beside me. He didn't say a word. His face contorted into a half smile and half a scowl as he watched Floki get to work.

"You know?" I asked.

"I do. Most impressive, vessel." He waited for something, or so it seemed, but I didn't even know what he was doing here.

"Was this the choice you were talking about?" The Seer tilted his head back a bit, then nodded once, barely visible. He reached inside his sleeves and pulled a feather from it, holding it up for me.

"I found this on my way here. It belongs to you, it seems. Keep it safe." I couldn't see what was so special about it, but I took it all the same. It was perfect, no barbs missing from the vanes on both sides, and white as snow. There was hardly any fluffy afterfeather on it, and the few barbs that hung loose didn't seem to move at all. "The gods meant for you to have this." My eyes flashed up to his face, but he didn't say another word.

"Thank you," I said as I pocketed the feather. No one else seemed to have noticed our exchange, they were all busy staring at Jozef's body as Floki dragged him off, or whispering amongst themselves.

"I have confessed my sins to the first man I saw," Bjorn said in a clear voice, drawing everyone's attention to him. My heart sank as I heard him speak. There was but little left of his calm, I could see it in his eyes. "I killed Erlendur, thinking he was going to kill my wife. It now seems I was mistaken, as Erlendur was caught in some seidr." No. I refused to believe this, Bjorn couldn't mean this. He wasn't going to get himself put on trial over a lie, I wouldn't allow it. Jozef had no powers, I would have known.

"Bjorn, you can't." I lunged forward and grasped at his shirt, burying my face in his chest. "Don't do this, I beg of you. Please, I need you," I whispered. This must have been what he was talking about, right before the trial started.

"Shh, it's okay." He wrapped one arm around me and used the other to lift up my chin. His eyes were full of hurt. "I take full responsibility for my mistake. The gods are here, and I must stand trial for what I did."

"Ragnhild." Ragnar's voice commanded me to step back, but I hated having to listen. Bjorn gently pushed me away, forcing me to put on a brave face as I faced off the stares from the crowd. There was a chance Bjorn would never get to hold me like that again, ever. "What can I say to this? My son confesses to murder. The gods are here, listening to us bicker. What am I to do?" I heard his throne creak as he got up.

"Erlendur lost his mind," I insisted. "He was convinced the wanderer was a god, he cut my palm to see what my blood looked like. Bjorn had every right to worry for my safety, I screamed out hoping anyone would hear." Ragnar kept on walking, tracing a circle past the first line of spectators. He halted in front of Torvi, putting a hand on her bump.

"You carry Erlendur's only living family. You came here seeking justice. What do you say to this confession?" Of course, she was the one to decide on Bjorn's fate. She wouldn't let me down, I could trust her. She was my friend.

I was so foolish for forgetting that, if only for a moment. Torvi had a right to her wergeld, the fine for losing a family member, and after that no one could ever bring up the charges again, not with Ragnar presiding himself. This was about tying off loose ends.

"I ask that I receive half of what I was promised for my dowry. That will be enough for me to raise both my children until I wed again." Ragnar nodded, they must have spoken of this before.

"All in favor of settling this matter, say aye." The whole room raised their hands and a resounding aye came from them, and I almost forgot to vote myself as I rushed into Bjorn's arms. My aye got smothered in Bjorn's chest as he held me close. His embrace felt warm again, and it was so tempting to let him hold me for a while longer… But I had things to do, evidence to get rid of.

"Auntie?" I blinked a few times and looked down. Sigurd wanted my attention, holding onto my skirts. His face was filled with confusion.

"What is it, Sigurd?" I bent down to pick him up.

"Is he gone now?"

"He is," I said. "Harbard will never come back. I promise." Sigurd didn't know how to feel about that. No doubt Aslaug had told him that once before. "He's dead, the gods struck him down. He can't come back, even if he wanted to. You won't ever see him again, none of us will. We're safe now, all of us." The boy buried his face in my neck, wrapping his arms around me.

"You're safe with us, Sigurd." Bjorn put his hand on Sigurd's head, wrapping his other around my back.

"We have to go for a bit, but we'll be back."

"No! Don't go!" Sigurd started crying, holding onto me even tighter. "Auntie, stay!"

"It's okay, I just - " He kept shouting, almost cutting off my airway. Bjorn let out a heavy sigh and pulled away, trying to get Sigurd to let go of me. "Sigurd, my sweet boy, I will be back. I promise, on my life. Can you keep a secret? I know I can trust you, because I love you so much. You hear that? I love you, so, so much. I will never leave you, but I have something important to do. I'll tell you, but I need you to keep it a secret. Can you be a big boy for me?" He calmed down, if only a bit. I ignored the stares we were getting.

"Don't go," he muttered.

"I need to make sure Harbard will never return here, so we can be together all the time. That's it, I promise. You know I always keep my promises to you." His lip kept on shaking, but he didn't cry anymore.

"I'm sure your brothers will play with you until we get back," Bjorn said as he took over the boy. "It won't be long, you'll see your auntie more than enough." Sigurd kept throwing back looks, but Bjorn seemed to calm him down enough for him to stop worrying. Bjorn's calm had returned, and I wasn't the only one that felt safe when it showed.

"Okay," Sigurd said in a tiny voice, barely audible over the excited voices rising from the hall. Ragnar had seen it all happen and took over his son when Bjorn held him out.

"Where do you want to go?" Bjorn asked when he joined me.

"Out, to the forest. I wasn't lying, we have something to take care of, before all of this is truly over. Please bear with me for a few more hours. These are the last loose ends, I swear." Bjorn didn't understand, but this wasn't the place to get into the details.


	125. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-09-803

Bjorn had opted to borrow a cart to get the body out of town quicker. As he switched out horses I went home to check on the twins, seeing they were still perfectly happy, sleeping with their heads touching. I tore away my eyes and got what I needed, then got back to Bjorn. Floki gave me an appraising look, but kept silent as I sat down next to Bjorn.

"Where do you want to take him?"

"Somewhere we can burn his body," I whispered as I looked down at my hands. The cart started rolling. Not a lot of people had left the hall yet, and that was for the best. It would only lead to questions I didn't want to answer honestly.

Bjorn halted near a clearing. Without a word we got off, in search of wood to use for a pyre. Without one the body wouldn't burn properly, and we would be left to dig a hole all the same. Only when Bjorn meant to drag the body into place did I speak up.

"Don't touch his skin," I insisted. Bjorn raised an eyebrow, but did as I asked.

"Some strange custom of yours?" I turned back to the fire, hoping it would light up the end of my stick. "Why are we even out here?"

"You said you didn't want to talk about it until it was all behind us." The end burned steadily enough for me to light the pyre with it. I lit the nests of dried grass in between, taking a deep breath as they caught fire.

"What do you mean?"

"Almost. Just... He needs to burn, then we'll talk. Like you said we would." The flames licked through the upper layer, and even before the pyre was truly lit up, Jozef's clothes started to burn. Without a word still, I grabbed my diary from my bag, as well as the towel I had worn when I came here.

Bjorn stared at me intensely when I stole a glance at him, then threw it on top of Jozef. Taking Bjorn's hand I pulled him back a fair distance, knowing what kind of smoke would come from the fire.

"Now will you tell me why you burned the things from your past?" My lip started shaking. I was nervous, and angry, and desperate, and eager to get it all out.

"I had to burn the evidence," I brought out in between heavy breaths. A cool breeze passed over us, catching a stray lock of Bjorn's hair. It smelled like there was rain coming. The smoke was whirling in all directions.

"Evidence? Of where you came from?"

"Of what I just did. Floki knows how to shut up, right? He hated Jozef. He won't tell a soul of what he saw. And he still owes me, for keeping quiet about Athelstan. He won't tell anyone, right?" My eyes pleaded with him to say it was so.

"Ragnhild, you're not making any... What's tha - " I closed my eyes, hiding my face in his shirt as he faced the pyre. The smell was unmistakable, what was left of the hemlock now burned in the rolled up towel. "Is that hemlock?" I nodded, bracing myself to hold onto him when he would try to fight me off.

"I had to, you have to understand. What he said to me... He had to die."

"But you... You defended him. After you... The mug, and then you stalled. Ragnhild, why?" His hands touched my shoulder blades lightly.

"Because he threatened to kill you, and he would've told Ragnar where we're from. He wanted to rip everything I know to shreds, and I couldn't let him. Please don't hate me."

"Hate you? What for?"

"I killed him, but I don't have any evidence it was self-defense." The gods would punish me, but at least Bjorn would still be alive. The twins would have their father, at the least.

"He never would have lived through the day. Ragnar would have executed him right after. Why did you take such a risk? You knew Torvi would speak up, and what she would say. Honestly, hemlock? In public?"

"It's so stupid, who would have believed it to be a serious attempt? You know I sometimes run into simple things I don't understand." Finally he pulled me close, and I could breathe in deep again.

"You're a fucking idiot," he breathed. "What made you think you needed to kill him?"

"Because I... I didn't want to lose you. Jozef was up to something, I could feel it. He would never have gone down alone, and then... I don't..."

"Ragnhild..."

"You said - I... Bjorn, I... You would tear out his liver to keep me safe, and…"

"Shh, it's okay. It's over now, as you said." I hung my shoulders at his words. Over. It had been too little, too late. He truly meant to divorce me.

"Thank you," I whispered. "You've taught me so much... I'll never forget it." Bjorn pushed me off, a sense of urgency in his voice as he spoke.

"What do you mean? Are you leaving? No, you can't. I... I love you. I need you, don't go, promise me you'll stay." I could only stare up at him, confused as hell.

"I thought you wanted me to leave," I breathed, not sure if I could feel relieved yet. "Why else would you be so distant? You were so mad at me, and then you didn't want to be close to me anymore... I screwed up so many times, I... And you..."

"I wanted to give you space. I thought you hated me for talking badly about your brother, and then you killed him..."

"He threatened to kill you, of course he deserved to die. What kind of woman do you take me for? He tried to get between us, and by the looks of it, he almost succeeded. I fucking love you."

His lips crashed into mine, our teeth knocking together in our haste. Not that we cared. His lips were warm, and mine, as was his tongue. So were his arms, and his chest. His shirt had no right to stick to his skin, and neither had his pants, nor his boots.

Bjorn lay down on the grass, pulling me towards him by my lacing. It broke, but he didn't need to pull me in much further. I sat down on his hips and got out of my dress, close to crying out of sheer relief. The crackling of the pyre mixed in with a distant rolling thunder, but we didn't care. The soft drizzle didn't mean a thing to us, either.

Bjorn reached across his stomach and started fingering me, keeping to the edges until I was wet enough to enter. My moans grew louder the longer Bjorn kept going, until I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed hold of his dick and guided him inside of me, feeling his hands move up to my breasts.

"Fuck... I love you, Bjorn. I fucking love you." He sat up as I kept riding him, eager to be inside of me.

"Ragnhild... Ohh, fuck. Never scare me like that again. I love you. I need you." I pulled him close, feeling his warm breath in my neck as he helped lift my weight. We smashed into each other at a speed that thinking about it would break the spell.

I threw back my head as I came, prompting Bjorn to roll over and lay me down on the grass, taking over control. He pumped into me as I still came, contracting my inner muscles around his cock.

"Fuck me, Ironside," I moaned. Bjorn's rhythm faltered with mine.

"Don't call me that," he muttered as he got back into it.

"My prince, then. Keep fucking me with that gorgeous dick of yours..."

"Shut up, I hate it when you call me that." It only made him fuck me harder. I had to hold onto him to keep from moving around too much. "Not you, never call me that. You hear me? No matter what kind of dirty slut you are to me, never fucking say that! I need you as an equal, I won't have you pretend you're less than me, not even for a second!" This was more than a game, this was real. Something was bothering him, and it shone through.

"Shh, it's okay," I tried, moaning in between as he kept on fucking out his anger. I loved him being this rough, but it came from the wrong place.

"I fucking love you, I... Hngh..." He came, and after two last thrusts to empty his sack he rested on top of me. "Don't you ever call me that again. I need you, I can't have you telling me what I... What I..."

He sobbed. I felt his chest shock, and then he sobbed again.

I threw my arms around him, letting my fingers caress his skin. This was so strange. Bjorn had only ever cried of joy, or laughter, maybe once when he stubbed his toe. Not out of sadness, or worry.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'll stop."

"What am I to you?" he asked. "If you... You don't want to be queen, you don't care that I'm Ragnar's son..." His voice sounded broken, and nasal. He was truly crying.

"You're everything to me," I said in a clear voice. "You're my husband, the father of my children, you're my best friend. You're the reason I'm now able to be happy, and you're the reason I am happy. Didn't you hear me earlier? I killed my brother because I was scared he would hurt you. Just the thought of losing you made me that desperate. I need you just as much as you need me." He rose up slightly, showing me his tear-streaked face.

"What can I give you? How can I keep you close? What can I do to make sure you will keep on loving me?"

"What do you plan on doing that will make me stop loving you?" He scoffed, then a careful smile came to his lips.

"You're maddening. How can I pour out my heart when you calm me down with such ease?" He pushed his head in my neck, where he found a comfortable spot to lay down again. "I still want to scream that you can't ever leave me, and that you are an idiot for risking your life today, for such a foolish thing."

"If you talk like that, it does make you sound like a foolish thing. I love you, in a way those words don't tell you how deeply I feel it."

"I don't get it. How can you love me like that? How can you think I needed you to kill someone to show me how much you cared?"

"He wanted me to blame Erlendur for what he did. He meant for us to sail to England and find a way back to our own time, even offering that we could take the twins." Bjorn's face grew intent again. I wiped away the tears on his cheek, but he pushed his palm over his eyes after all the same.

"He would have died anyway, as I said."

"He would have managed to escape, one way or another. I wouldn't be surprised if he asked Aslaug the same, or anyone else for that matter. It's... I just had this feeling..."

"I was certain the gods were there, in the hall. He died at just the right time, if he meant to reveal your secret to the Thing..."

"They were. They always watch, they know what I'm telling you right now. The gods will pass their judgment on me, even though I had a right to defend my family.” I couldn’t confess to interfering with the Law like I did, ever. Even if I survived, I wouldn’t be trusted by anyone, ever again.

"I know you feel bad about it, either way. I - I went through his things, when you were out with Torvi. I asked the gods to give me a sign, if I was meant to lose you to him. But all I found was some necklace, he didn't have anything strange in his house, at all." I cocked my head, not remembering any necklace he had left.

"I found my diary, but not the necklace... I went there yesterday, that's when I realized... That's what made me certain I had to kill him. What kind of necklace was it?" If it had been any symbol of the gods, Bjorn would have recognized it. If it was from back home, I had to burn it as well.

"It reminded me of those runes you can read. It looks like this." Bjorn plucked some grass and made the symbol with the sprigs. As he leaned up, still inside of me, I rolled on my elbow to see. It was an X, with a P down the middle.

"Where is that necklace now?" I whispered. This couldn't be... That symbol, it was... Bjorn stroked my hair, looking worried as he saw how blown away I was.

"I gave it to Torvi for safekeeping, I... I figured you might want to keep it, since he..."

"You hated Jozef, and with good reason. You meant to gift me with something of his, because you thought it would console me?" He nodded, staring down at the symbol again. "Why in the name of Odin would I want to wear a necklace that says I am a Christian? It means Pax Christi, if he had it, it means he considered himself to be a warrior for their faith." I'd killed a Christian... A serious one, at that. The gods wouldn't blame me for that, ever. He had used their might as a cover, he wasn’t worthy of being judged under their laws, in the first place.

I pulled Bjorn close, feeling his back was turning damp from the pounder that fell. As our kiss grew more and more fiery, the rain swelled to a fall storm, thunder slamming down as we got drenching wet.

I smiled as Bjorn looked up, feeling like all of our troubles were washed off. The gods were on our side, not the iron of weapons.

"We're not the only ones eager to bang," he said, water pouring from his face. "Looks like Thor is making something marvelous with his hammer."

"Then why don't you use your version of Mjollnir to make us another child?" I asked.

"What? But you haven't bled yet."

"It can't be long, and we'll need all the practice we can get."

"Oh, yes, we're terrible at making a child. Thank the gods they are here to support us. Thor will show me how to get you with child." He flexed his dick, making me shudder as I gasped.

"Freyja, save me from this fool. He thinks it's his decision to get me with child... Show us your might, so I may fuck him speechless and have him bow before you." Bjorn grunted as he started fucking me, slowly at first. The cold rain beat on my face, feeling as if I was standing underneath a shower. I missed those, even though the rain was cold.

"Freyja, make this woman as wet as the rain. Let me slide all the way in, and have her squirm on my dick as she takes my seed." It felt like sacrilege, to invoke the gods like this, but I couldn't shut up again. Bjorn had gotten me horny to a point all I cared about was his dick and coming with it inside of me.

"Freyr, please... Let me... Ohh, bear him a child... Fuck, Bjorn..." I had trouble keeping up with his pace. "Bless us, with your love... And... And gifts... So much... Ohh, wonderful... Gifts..." My nails found his back as I tried to relax into the orgasm, but he wouldn't let me come down. He fucked me even harder, making the pitch in my moans rise even higher.

Bjorn wiped the strands of hair from my face, keeping one hand on my shoulder to make sure I got fully filled every time he thrust. I felt my eyes glaze over as I held onto him.

"Blessed are you, Odin," he panted, "for knowing how much I would enjoy fucking this... This woman is beyond me. Fuck... Let me fuck her until the day I die."

I couldn't voice any more prayers, but my mind was filled with gratitude, for Freyja as she had brought me here, and Odin for knowing how it all would work out, and the norns who decided our fates, for Freyr as he had given us the twins... And then Freyja again, for the amazing orgasms Bjorn kept bestowing on me.


	126. Missed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-09-803

On the way back Bjorn told me all about his alliance with Torvi. She had been arranging a separate deal with the both of us, where she would speak  
up for Bjor's sake in exchange for half her dowry, but I couldn't begrudge her a thing. She would need our help shortly, if the gods were kind.

I only listened with half an ear to what Torvi would receive, much rather focusing on feeling the warmth that came from his body.

"Honey?"

"Hmm, good idea. Maybe we should give that a try again, I promise I won't complain about the furs this time." Bjorn gently pushed me down after I  
kissed his cheek.

"What's gotten into you? We're soaking wet, you barely got your dress back on."

"I thought I would never get to fuck you again..." I clung to his arm, kissing his shoulder and rubbing my breasts against it.

"Dry humping my arm won't make my dick hard so soon after we just had sex. I came twice already, you know the third time takes longer." I bit my lip, moaning as I begged with my eyes for him to slip his hand underneath my skirts. Bjorn just sighed, turning his eyes on the road. "We have to get home, it's getting dark. People will be wondering where we went. Get a hold of yourself, we're adults. We'll fuck when we're at home, and dry, and I've had time to recover."

"Just tie it to a stick with some rope," I muttered, but I sat back all the same, crossing my arms.

"You're making me wonder if I ever managed to satisfy you. Do you have more brothers you can kill? If that's what it takes to make you act like this..." He let his hand slide over my skirts, but my flash of lust had passed.

"I'm missing something," I sighed as I caught his hand, entwining his fingers in mine. "I don't know what it is, but... No, don't give me that look. It's got nothing to do with you, or our family. I feel like I should be doing something, like..."

"I take it you don't mean cleaning my weapons?" I bumped into his shoulder, mockingly scowling as he grinned. "What do you think it is? Something to do with all those prophecies? Or your destiny?" A warm shiver passed through my spine at the word, bringing joy to my heart.

"Yes, I think it is. I need to do something, but I don't know what." Bjorn kissed me on my temple, then brushed his nose through my hair. He wasn’t minding the road at all, I jerked on the reins to keep from hitting a tree, but the wheels rambled as they hit the side of the ruts in the road. Bjorn grabbed hold of me, laughing at my flustered face.

"Where would I ever be without you? Even now you save me from a terrible accident."

"Move over, I'm driving. You obviously suck at this." I pulled the reins from his hands, but I wasn't used to steering like this. The horse got so confused it stopped walking altogether.

"Oh, much better."

"Shut up, I'm trying to find my destiny. You could at least offer to help me out, instead of leaning back and enjoying the sun." Lightning flashed off in the mountains, lighting up the creases in his smiling face.

"What if I trade you? I'll teach you the mysteries of riding on a cart, and you teach me some more of that nonsense language of yours."

"Sounds fair. A cart like this is called a wagen." He sat up straight, instantly intrigued. Now it was my turn to smile, I’d been working on that lesson for a while now.

"That almost sounds the same." The Norse vagn was essentially pronounced the same, much to my amusement.

"Yes, it's such nonsense, that language of mine. There's more similar words than you might think." I told him of a few, like warship, and gloves, and omen. He drank it all up, repeating the words as best he could.

When it started to get so cold my lips turned blue, Bjorn got to his senses and stopped kissing me through the lesson and put the reins back in my hand. 

"Just give it a slight whirl, you were holding on too tight before. It's just like sitting on the horse yourself, you're trying to account for the distance. The rein is longer, but the horse doesn't know that." I cocked my head and gave him a sour look, but I couldn't stay mad at him for long. He knew how my mind worked, and why I had made the mistake in the first place.

"And you traded that information for at least twenty words?"

"You're a terrible negotiator. I bet you're overpaying all those informants as well, it's been quiet for a while now. Unless you're hiding things from me?"

"Don't make me regret having told you about it, what might seem small now can mean the world later. I'm keeping an eye on Harald, and the merchants told me of Lagertha taking over before even Horik knew about it, I just didn't have enough details to fill in the picture." Bjorn leaned back, watching me try and steer the horse in front of us, correcting me when necessary.

"You're making her nervous, trust that she doesn't want to drag the cart out of a rut as well. She knows we're going home." I let the reins hang loosely, and the horse picked up the pace while she kept her head aiming forward.

"This isn't it," I sighed.

"You're doing fine. We'll be back in town in a few minutes."

"No, my destiny I mean. It's... It should be more awesome than this. Maybe I should go around town and see what else I can find to do. I could get started next week, I have so much cleaning to do, still. And we've got a bunch of laundry piling up, do you have time to help me out sometime soon?" I glanced over at Bjorn, then stared as I saw his pensive look.

"I'm happy to help, but you make me wonder..."

"About what?" I glanced back at the road again, we were almost in sight of the town.

"You're having mood swings."

"It's been stressful the past few weeks, what are you implying?"

"I know for a fact that the laundry isn't that bad, and you did a lot of work over the past week. You even did the rafters yesterday, you always ask me to do that because you can't reach them without standing on the table." I pushed my lips together, not convinced of his theory yet.

"That's what I do, I keep house and take care of the babies."

"You're insatiable," he breathed in my ear, making me shudder. I felt his hand move over my leg, making me sigh deeply.

"I'm not pregnant," I insisted. "I won't believe that you got me to conceive without bleeding once, even you aren’t that good."

"Oh, but I am. Remember before? You drank that yellow tea every time your blood was supposed to start, and then when you stopped it took me a bit longer because you were gone a lot, and we were on that blasted ship. You said so yourself, the moment we got to Paris, I put a baby inside of you." His devious smile wasn’t enough to make me forget about his comment about the tea.

"What do you know about the yellow tea?" I asked.

"You keep it hidden for a reason. It's like that curse Helga pulled from your body, isn't it?" I bit my lip, not knowing if he would understand the need for abortion. Bjorn was very much pro life.

"It's a way to prevent conception. Some women aren't able or willing to raise a child, and I..." He put a hand in my neck, pulled me close.

"I don't understand, but I know you do. I noticed you filled the jar at one point, so I got a bit worried... It's why I thought you would leave me."

"Never. It's not for me, but for some of my visitors."

"Then why did you move it today?" His voice was so soft I barely heard it above the rain.

"It's a long story. Let's get inside to warm up, first." With the town in sight and the air cooled off, I was done with our rainy bliss. Bjorn made sure I wouldn't hit anything with the cart, adjusting the reins a little at times. When we finally stopped, I was eager to go back home, as was Bjorn.

Inside, we stripped naked and dried ourselves off as best we could. The twins were up, holding onto the sides of the crib as they watched us come in. I kissed them both, then returned to getting warm and dressed. Bjorn threw an extra log on the fire, narrowly escaping a spark that came for his skin. Served him right, for tending to the fire naked.

"What are you smiling about? Come on, let's get dinner started." I put on a nightgown already, not seeing the sense in having to get dressed for bed in a few hours. Bjorn joined me in the kitchen, letting his hands slide over my body.

"There's nothing to feel yet," I said.

"You could be pregnant for a while now. You know how much I want to see your body change. I missed so much of it last time..." The way he was acting, he was having some mood swings of his own.

"And you came back stronger. I don't blame you for leaving."

"I know. But I haven't forgiven myself. Did you feel like you couldn't count on me, afterward? Is that why you wanted to trust other men?" I was glad to talk about anything else than the tea.

"I wanted to trust Erlendur because I wanted to show you I was past my paranoia. I wanted to prove to you how worthy I was of being your wife." He brushed his face through my damp hair.

"Then don't try and prove to me what I already know. As far as I'm concerned this doesn't erase the many things you've done to help me out, or my father for that matter. I would appreciate it if you tell me when youplan on killing someone, though."

"Likewise. Don't keep me out of things, like your plan with Torvi." I got out a cutting board and a knife, then grabbed a cabbage. "I was scared to death, I couldn't think straight."

"Your response did help sell it..."

"I can act surprised if I need to."

"I will. No more secrets between us, ever." I took a deep breath and leaned into him, closing my eyes as I felt his hands slide over the thin fabric covering my cold skin.

"What do you think of cabbage?" I asked.

"Cabbage?"

"As a name. The twins were my little sweet pea, this one needs a name as well." A huff of warm breath touched my neck, and his hands found my stomach.

"Why the vegetables?" He moved his head to rest on top of mine, it made me feel safe.

"Why not? Would you rather talk of our child as an axe? Or a horse?"

"A cabbage is fine. As long as you are happy, you can call it whatever you want."

"Good, because if you are right the child will be born during the next raid. You'll come home and I will present you with a crying, stinky pile of swaddling." The plan was still to go to Paris and deal with Rollo’s betrayal, and if last time was any indication they would be gone for a long time. If he was lucky, Bjorn would miss the sleepless nights.

"You make me look forward to it already... But you know what I'll ask you. We’ll be gone for moons, and depending on how far along you already are…" He’d been thinking about the same I had.

"And you know what I still think of it."

"Borrowing help from Aslaug is still using a servant," he pointed out. “And this time you don’t have me to help out, and you have the twins running around.”

"We only just made up, let's not get into a fight already." I brushed away his hands so I could get back to cutting vegetables, feeling a bit annoyed.

"It's not a fight if you say yes..." He tried to tease out my answer by kissing my shoulder, and letting his hands slide up to my breasts. It almost worked.

"Where would we even keep a slave? We'd have to move to a house with more room. The twins are too young to sleep in a bed yet, but they will need separate ones."

"We'll manage." I scoffed, that was what I always said when he tried to convince me that having a slave around was a good thing.

"I could ask Helga to come and stay over during the raid. She'll enjoy the company, and it will be good for Angrboda to be around other children her age. Together we'll manage, as you say. Now get a pot going, the twins are hungry." I didn't even have to look their way to know, it was getting late. They would voice their complaints soon enough.

"You got me there," he said. He let me go and set to work.

After dinner and putting the twins to bed we spent a good amount of time kissing each other to sleep. I looked forward to sleeping in the next day, take it slow, but we didn't even sleep until morning. A frantic knocking woke us up, limbs in a tangle. I pushed a hand over my face, hoping Bjorn could send whoever it was away.

"Ragnhild! It's Torvi, she's bleeding! She said she needs you!" I gasped as I got up, realizing what must have been going on.

"I have to go," I said as I pulled a dress from my chest.

"What's going on? Why could she need you in the middle of the night?" I ignored him as I slipped in my shoes and went for a cloak. Bjorn helped me put it on as I fought the clasp, I was too unnerved to handle it.

"Try and get some sleep. It could be a while." Bjorn’s frown told me he would stay awake as long as I was up. His worry wasn’t just for Torvi.

"Is it her child?"

"She complained of some cramps earlier," I lied. Bjorn kissed me on my forehead, then let me go. The gesture only took two seconds, but it calmed me down to the depths of my spirit.

The woman outside brought me up to speed. Torvi was losing a lot of blood, she said, and was in terrible pain. I could hear her screaming from outside the hall, where Ragnar was pacing. His eyes were thick and swollen, as if he had been up for three nights straight. He came up to me and clutched my arms, as if to shake the answer from me.

"She refuses to let anyone near. What's going on?"

"I need to see her before I can answer that. Ragnar, calm down. You’re not helping anyone."

"It's her child, isn't it?" He was always anxious when it came to women and their children, but I’d only seen it happen for myself when the twins were born.

“I know you’re worried, and probably for a good reason. But I could stand here talking to you, or I could start helping her.” He nodded, held onto my arms for a bit longer, then watched me go. As I glanced back I saw he was biting his nails, for some reason. Just what kind of interest did he have in Torvi?

I found her lying on my old cot, which to me meant that he trusted her. It wasn’t just the place closest to Ragnar in case he needed anything, but if Torvi needed something, Ragnar was sure to notice first.

"Make sure he doesn’t interfere," I whispered at the woman. "This is not the time to be curious." Torvi reached out to grasp my hand, and I sat down next to her before I did anything else. I stroked her hair and took in her face as I heard Ragnar kept on pacing, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse.

"It hurts," she whispered.

"I know. The baby isn't that large yet, but there's only one way for it to come out." She pressed her eyes shut, then nodded. She'd given birth before, this was something she understood.

"How far along is she?" Aslaug asked as she joined us. Her hair was newly braided, she had taken her time getting to Torvi’s side. It didn't even surprise me.

"It’s too soon," I replied. Aslaug's expression turned grave. After doing the math I realized Torvi had gotten pregnant after Erlendur had been driven out of Hedeby. She either had gone after him, or he had lingered there, and whatever had happened, it should stay there. Unless Torvi meant to share, it was none of my business.

"I'll get Vinh," Aslaug said as she got up. My eyes went wide as I realized what would happen if Vinh saw what went on here. Miscarriages at this point in the pregnancy were rare, and just seeing me here would make Vinh wary of foul play. Jozef had told me what I needed to know where abortions were concerned, he had been a staunch defender of women’s rights where that was concerned. Using the yellow tea led to early contractions because the placenta parted from the fetus too early, but that was rare to happen to second-time mothers.

"No, I don't know that woman. I want Ragnhild to help me." I was amazed Torvi even managed to speak, but grateful all the same. She knew what I was risking, as well. I got in place and raised her skirts, seeing she was almost ready. A servant handed me wet cloths I used to get rid of most of the blood she had already lost. It was a mess, I’d never seen this much loss at the start of it. I was hesitant to call it a birth, even.

"We need kohl, and sage, could you see to that?" I asked, if only to get Aslaug out of there. It was agony to see Torvi go through this much pain, while at the same time knowing I was the one who had inflicted it on her. "Get her out of that dress." Aslaug passed on the orders and got out of my way. The woman who had come to my door helped Torvi out of her nightgown and held back her hair.

The smell of sage burning was upon us before I saw Aslaug returning with it. She had grabbed her eye kohl in his hurry, not caring that it was finer stuff than what was normally used. I couldn't be bothered, either. I drew the runes of protection on my own hands first, then got to Torvi's hands and forehead.

“I don’t recall it hurting this much,” Torvi panted. “Something’s wrong, Ragnhild. Please, help me…”

"I’ll do my best, as always. We're almost there, you can almost push," I said. I could hardly comfort her now, or tell her this was what she signed up for. The sting of having to use Jozef’s knowledge that he had imparted on me just two weeks ago was confusing. Back then I had only talked to him about my search for some greater calling as he had called it, and he had insisted that being a midwife was a good place to start. At the least he hadn’t been wrong about that.

"Hurry up," she panted. This was taking a toll on her body. The tea must have been too strong, she was losing too much blood for this kind of birth. The cord should have become constricted, diminishing blood loss.

I checked if everything was in order a last time, then inserted a hand to see how far along she was. It wasn't anywhere near large enough for a full-grown baby, but judging by her bump, this was as far as she would need to be dilated.

"You can start pushing," I said. A relieved smile came to her face, and for a moment we waited in silence for a contraction to hit.

It was over in a flash. Torvi pushed the child out in two tries, and no cry followed. The boy was purple in the face, the rest of him an eerie red, and without a word I cut the cord, then wrapped him in a cloth. Tears ran down Torvi's face, but she didn't make a sound. Her eyes were aimed at the ceiling, and with an even graver face I waited for the afterbirth to slide out. There was barely any tearing, but a lot of blood leaked from the cord. It had ruptured, and I was loath to bring up why that had happened. I hadn’t given her that much tea, even if it had been fresh. Either the gods had passed their judgement, or Torvi had taken it upon herself to gather more flowers.

"Do you want someone to take care of that?" Aslaug asked after I tied off the cord.

"I'll do it myself. Unless Torvi needs - "

"I'm tired." With a nod the servants set to cleaning her bedding. I made sure to take care of her legs and abdomen myself, not wanting her to suffer any more strange hands touching her. She needed to be left alone, if that was what she wanted.

In the hall, Ragnar and Bjorn looked up when I came back in, carrying a tiny bundle in my arms. They knew what had happened, and what needed to be done. Especially Ragnar seemed affected, almost as if it had been a child he was hoping to see grow and flourish.

"Do you want me to come?" Bjorn asked. "It's not safe this time of night."

"I'll manage, I’ll just bring a torch." I didn't want him involved in this sin against his beliefs. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to start asking questions about the tea.

"I insist." He laid his hand on my back, and I took a deep breath. "I'll make you a cup of tea when we get back."

He knew. As I looked into his eyes, I realized he had figured out the tea. I nodded, and he took my cloak from a servant. I'd forgotten about it in the turmoil. He wrapped it around me and led the way out, wearing his axe on his belt and two torches in his hand, lighting one in the fire pit as we passed it.

"Ragnhild..." I glanced back to see what Ragnar had to say. "How is she doing?"

"Let her rest. It's the kind thing to do."

“Will she survive?”

“Only the gods know for sure.” His hopeful smile turned sad, I knew how he felt. Torvi had been hiding things from me, and it might well be the reason it had gone over the way it had. Her level of pain, her blood loss… The onset was too sudden, as well, almost as if she had snuck a second cup with her and downed it shortly before she started bleeding.

On our way to the forest Bjorn kept quiet, as did I. The boy turned cold fast, and he was a constant reminder of what had gone on, and how fucked up it all was. It was one thing to hand out the tea and send the women off again, to travel home before taking it to keep anyone from finding out I was involved, but seeing with my own eyes what kind of destruction it caused…

"You moved the tea," Bjorn said as we hit the line of trees.

"I did. Then I realized she was too far along. We went out to the forest and got her some fresh flowers, those work better but hold more danger."

"You killed a baby."

"I didn't force her to take it. She wanted my help." We fell quiet for a few paces. The torch cast a warm, orange glow on the trees, but despite me having been here twice yesterday, the woods seemed foreign to me. I never went to the forest at night.

"The sins of the father are not the sins of the son," he insisted. I wasn’t sure if he meant to repeat my own words back to me, or if he believed them for himself.

"Torvi thought different. What was I supposed to do, have her suffer through four more moons of pregnancy to leave a healthy child to the wolves? Or should I have risked her trying to get it done on her own? It's dangerous stuff, and I make sure it gets used as safe as can be."

"How can you say that?" The angrier he got, the faster he started walking. I had trouble seeing where I walked.

"It's not my place to judge, nor is it my choice to make. Torvi made the decision, not me."

"It's up to the gods to decide!"

"The gods did. It doesn't always work. It could have killed them both. Torvi was aware of the risks, and still she thought this was the best solution. Don't pretend to know how she suffered, she could still have some serious side effects. It was her choice, not mine, and sure as Helheim not yours." He turned around at my words, showing an anger I wasn’t used to seeing.

"They will punish us for this! How can you be this reckless!"

"I have been doing this for years, Bjorn. Did the gods not create that plant for us to use? Just because it's new to you doesn't mean it's new for everyone. Vinh uses yellow tea as well, all kinds of women use it, all over the world. It's not some secret I know from back home, I learned it here. Otherwise I never would have had to insert that curse into me in the first place."

"Then why do they come to you?"

"Because with me, they also get silence. Would you trust Vinh to keep her mouth shut with something like this? Do you think she's the only healer who loves to gossip?"

"But... This one, Torvi's child..."

"Her choice."

"She was so far along..." I sighed, knowing what he meant.

"I normally don't do it, when the woman is showing. It draws too much attention, and there's a high chance it won't work. Torvi knew the risks, as do all the women who take the tea." Bjorn gestured for us to take a left, heading into a thick part of the woods with a lot of bushes.

"You should have told me. This could influence not just your life, when it comes to light."

"Would you have understood?"

"I can't believe you never even let on. How can you be that calm about this?"

"The same way you're calm about having killed innocent people on raids. To me, this is nothing to worry about. I think this is normal, and part of life."

"It's not the same!" I had tried to keep my voice down ever since he started talking, even when he was shouting at me, but something snapped. Torvi could have died today, her boy was weighing heavy in my arms and on my heart, and I wanted nothing more than to have Bjorn understand what it was like being a woman.

"It bloody well is! My world isn't as peaceful and easy-going on these things as I made it out to be. We can make babies without needing to have sex, and we can tear them from our wombs without having to risk us dying over it. And in some countries, the only people who stand in our way think it goes against their god! They’re backwards, ignorant savages!" I was fully prepared for Bjorn to fight me on this. He knew I sometimes thought him a savage for all the sacrifices he bestowed on the gods, and for not knowing basic laws of nature and humanity.

"Did you ever..." I groaned, finally understanding what this was about. He wasn't angry over the morality of it all, he wanted to know if I ever drank it.

"I did drink the tea, but never when I knew I was pregnant. It works preemptively as well, if you take it at the right times. At other times it can even help a woman conceive."

"How can I know if you told me the truth? You kept it from me."

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't understand. I know things you don't, and I have had years to think about all possible angles. I know it's not fair to ask you to feel the same as I do and support it yet, but at the least think it over. That's all I ask."

"Then tell me this. Why do you want to help those women? Do you not realize how dangerous this is to you? To us?" He got to his knees and started digging.

"Some are raped and can't handle seeing their own bodies. Every time they see it, knowing what's growing inside of them, they panic, and lose it. One grew so desperate she used her last money to get here, and if I had refused her, she would have killed herself. She couldn't face her husband, she felt too ashamed. Another couldn't support a sixth baby, no matter how much she loved it. She knew they would starve if the child would live through infancy, and she didn't want it to cause suffering to her other children."

"Are they all such sad stories?"

"Most are."

"Then what about Torvi? Did she get raped? Why did she wait so long?"

"I didn't ask." Bjorn rose to his feet, specks of dirt and mud clinging to his face.

"You don't know what happened? This child could have been loved at one time?"

"Like I said, the women that come to me also get privacy. They only tell me if they want to. If they lie to me or have an unpure heart, the gods will know." He looked like he couldn’t believe I would say such a thing.

"It's too dangerous. I don't want you to help them anymore. We have our own future to think of." He put his hands on my hips as he pulled me close, only the strength of his grip betraying how deeply he felt the words. He was afraid of losing me.

"Bjorn, I - "

"I mean it. What if a woman dies, and they figure out you gave that tea to her? You'll be put on trial for murder. What if someone wants to frame you and hears about the tea? Or what if someone tells on you? And that's just the mortal stuff, if the gods get angry with you..." I knew it came from a good place, but I had put much thought into this. I knew what I considered to be worth fighting for.

"We'll talk about it in the morning. It's late, and I want to check on Torvi when we get back." I went down on my knees and pulled up mud and dirt from the hole, still holding the boy with one arm. Bjorn stood by, only holding the torch as I dug on.

"That's deep enough," he said after a while. "Do you know the prayers?"

"They're a bit different," I admitted as I put the boy into the hole. "I didn't think the regular ones would do."

"So you made up your own?" He sat down beside me and brushed the hair from my face. It was rare for us to sit outside while I had my hair down, ever since we got married. "What else have you been hiding from me?"

"Let me take care of this first," I said as I turned back to the hole.

I said the prayers, asking Frigg to grant the baby a new life in a better place and time. I begged Odin to share his wisdom with Torvi, to help her overcome the burden of the decision, and I asked Freyja to bless Torvi, so she would be able to bear a new child when the time was right. All the while I blessed the earth and slowly buried the boy, thinking to myself this was not my choice.

"I've been thinking about taking in Sigurd for a while now," I said as I got up, clapping my hands together to get rid of the dirt.

"What? He has parents, why adopt him?"

"I think it will be good for him, to have a stable home environment. It's being around Ivar all the time that makes him so depressed." With my arms free I stood against Bjorn, feeling how badly I needed to have him close like this. Torvi’s child had been older than any other fetus I had ever seen, and it tore at my heart. The thought of the same happening to me, the desperation she must have felt…

"It's not that bad, he always smiles when I come in."

"Because he knows you'll pick him up and ask him things, and because you care. He needs to have that all day, not just when you come in. He's happy when he sees me as well, but after a few minutes his smile disappears again. I'm telling you, he needs some time away from the hall."

"We can't just take him away. Father will never allow it." Bjorn let his hand slide through my hair, tracing a strand with two fingers down the full length. Then he looked up and picked up the torch. We were going back home.

"I can see so much of myself in him. No one wants to see Sigurd get hurt, but by doing nothing we tell him this is what he deserves. This is what he is worth, half a look and a few good minutes a day. I can't stand by, I know how this would end. We need to take better care of Sigurd, or he could end up just as broken as I was when I got here."

"He's too young to... I mean, he's a child, how... We all love him, and..."

"And what? Do I need to repeat my story, Bjorn? Do you not know how bad it can get?"

"We're not your family."

"And still, things are getting out of hand. We can do nothing and let Sigurd break, or we can speak up and make sure he grows up strong as well."

"We would be shaming Ragnar."

"He's the one that should be ashamed. Do you not see how... Something's up with him. He's not taking care of his family, ever since you came back from Mercia something has changed."

"It's been a rough couple of moons, or course he acted strange." I bit my lip, knowing there was more to this story.

A wolf howled, not that far off. I jumped in Bjorn's arms as he swung his torch around, but judging by his breathing he didn't see a thing.

"Come on, we'd better hurry," he mumbled as he pulled me with him. A wolf further off howled back, and for a moment I wondered how I could ever be afraid of humans hurting each other. If a pack of wolves was desperate, they would use me for a chew toy. Bjorn might be able to fight them off, but I was defenseless. I hadn't even brought a knife.

Back in the hall, Ragnar was drinking alone. Rest had returned to the hall, while I felt anything but. Torvi lay so still I was certain she was faking being asleep. I went to my knees and stroked through her hair.

"It's over," I whispered. "Take all the time you need. I'm here for you." She let out a deep breath.

"Thank you," she whispered back, keeping her eyes closed. "I'll be fine."< With a last kiss on her hair I took my leave. I wanted to curl up next to her and hold her tight, but that was what I would want. Torvi had her own needs, and she needed to be alone for a while.

"What a convenience," Ragnar said as I threw my arms around Bjorn. He stroked my arms as I put my head on his shoulder. "Torvi now will get compensated for losing the father of her stillborn child."

"The gods have their reasons, Ragnar."

"Then why were you involved? Why did she ask for you, and not a healer? You never helped give birth before, and you have even less experience with these kinds of things."

"Father, save it." Bjorn sat up straight. "I have no intention of listening to you two bicker. Ragnhild knows what mistakes she made, and why. We've already talked about it, and she doesn't need to prove her worth to you. She's my wife, not yours. Don't you dare judge her when you can't even take care of your sons."

I stood frozen. Bjorn had never spoken to his father like this, and even though I agreed with him, I didn't have the balls to say it out loud like that. He got up and kissed the confusion from my face.

"Son... You can't be serious. She almost got us killed."

"Your little feud with Borg almost got us all killed, twice. You almost got us all killed in Mercia, as well. How much risk will you take with our lives in Paris next year, huh? How many lives will we lose because you want revenge on Rollo?"

"That's not the same!"

"You're right, it isn't. Because it was your wife who didn't realize that it was a bad idea to tell a stranger all about mine. Aslaug made the same mistakes, but Harbard wasn't out to get her. Your brother wasn't a Christian all along. He didn’t try to kill you, either. How dare you, putting all of that on Ragnhild." He wanted to leave, but Aslaug stood behind us.

She looked ashen. I squeezed Bjorn's arm hard, trying to keep the rest of me calm. Aslaug reached out to my face, and with bated breath I let her touch my cheek.

"You're pregnant," she whispered, her eyes wide. "I can see..."

"What?!" Ragnar knocked down a bench as he rose to his feet. "You dare call me emotional, when you defend your wife because she's with child! Is that what your little speech was all about?"

Bjorn went against him, but I couldn't hear his words. My eyes were locked on Aslaug's, who was looking distressed. The second I touched her back she snapped out of it, taking a deep breath as she avoided my gaze.

"Aslaug?"

"You're distracted!" Bjorn yelled beside me, facing the other direction.

"Aslaug, what did you see?" I wanted to help her into a seat, but she refused my help, instead walking off to the back where Ivar was crying.

"... again, I have had it with you!" Ragnar kept on shouting, and I knew nothing good would come of this. I pulled on Bjorn's arm, begging him to take me home. "I didn't raise you to become a brat, and when I gave my blessing for your marriage, I was convinced she would be an asset!"

I felt Bjorn's muscles contract underneath his sleeve. He was willing to fight Ragnar over this, but it wasn't worth it.

"Don't, please," I told his shoulder. "Come home with me, this won't end well for either of you." Bjorn shrugged his arm loose, but he did leave the hall with me. His arm around my shoulders made me feel safe.

"That’s right, keep walking! You'll realize what kind of mistake you made soon enough, you arrogant, good for nothing brat!" Ragnar kept on shouting as we made our way home, waking up the entire hall again. The sun was already coming up, but I felt as if it should be going down.

Inside, Bjorn got undressed, and without a word he went to bed, scooting over to my side. I made sure the twins were still fast asleep before I joined him, slinging my arm around his side.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"For what?"

"Standing up for me. You never went against Ragnar like that before."

"It was the right thing to do... Right?"

"There's nothing wrong with fighting against your parents. And I love you  
for it."

"But was I right?"

"You were, as far as I could tell. If he truly only blamed me for this..." I kissed his neck, then followed the line of runes that graced his skin. Bjorn’s markings were still fresh enough not to have faded, but I knew they would bleed out in a year or two.

"I completely forgot, did you learn how to read them yet?"

"I'm not exactly fluent, but I manage. Something about Odin granting you wisdom? It’s not a prayer I recognize."

"It asks Odin to grant me the wisdom of the ages." I let out a sigh, then hugged him from behind.

"Bjorn..." He turned around and kissed me on my forehead.

"I'll always have you with me, this way. I meant what I said, I never want to lose you. I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner."

"I should've listened when you tried to talk about Jozef. I wanted you to be wrong so badly."

"I know how strange it must have sounded. It was a feeling I had to go on, I didn't have any proof." I kissed him, wanting nothing more than to feel our connection, but the honesty of the moment was more intimate than any sex, ever.

"I put too much value on his advice. I should have been discussing things with you, not him."

"I know how badly you wanted it to work out. But as I just realized, family makes mistakes as well. As long as we learn from it, and vow to do better." He truly believed it. If he hadn’t forgiven me yet, he would in time. He knew I wouldn’t make this mistake again.

"You never once believed the rumors I slept with Erlendur. I'm so grateful for that, if you had doubted me..."

"I would have known. You would feel so guilty, I would have noticed. I know that part of you like the back of my hand... I want to know all of you, I want to understand..." He was asking about the tea.

"I... Think of me as a provider. I light a torch for people to find the way they want to go. I lay out the options, and those who seek my help can find their way. Most of the time, I only help them find what it is they want to know. Other times I help them through their worries."

"Then help me through mine. What could drive a woman to want to kill her child? How can the gods not hate her for it?"

"The hardest choices require the strongest wills. Taking the risk that the gods will be angry at you, for doing what you feel is the right reason... To protect what you already have, to keep from losing it all... You understand better than you think. You would defy the gods for me."

"It's a sacrifice?"

"It's survival."

"Does the child suffer?"

"No. They're either too small to feel anything at all, or they fall asleep in the womb, because they don't get enough air through the blood stream." At least, that was what I told myself. It sounded nice, and judging by the purple face I saw today it just might be the truth. I had no way to know for sure.

"But still..."

"These babies would have been left in the forest after birth, causing al kinds of danger for their mothers. Being pregnant is hard, and giving birth is not a joke."

"The gods, though..."

"The gods put those plants on Midgard for us to use. It is a gift to women everywhere." He sighed, the both of us knowing he would need time to get used to the idea.

"How can you speak for the gods?"

"I'm only ever offering a choice." His face disappeared in my neck, inhaling deep. He wanted to get distracted, once again he was struggling to understand how I could go against his version of the gods with such ease.

"What would you choose?"

"It's not that simple. Right now I choose not to drink the tea, because I want this child. I want to have this baby with you, I know you will provide for us, and the twins, and that we'll be fine. But what if you had died in Mercia, and Ragnar would have banished me?"

"But I lived," he insisted. I took a deep breath, knowing this would take a while to wrap his head around. "You love choices, don't you?"

"You know I do. There's always a choice." I let my hands slide over his back, then followed his hips to the front, where a gentle touch stirred his loins. "I could've waited to for you to finally initiate, but I chose not to."

"But there are consequences. What if I now expect that you'll suck me off?" My eyes shot up to his. I knew it… He was not vocal about wanting to receive oral, but it seemed he was holding back for some reason. For a good long while I’d been convinced I liked sucking him off more than he liked receiving it, despite his eager start.

"I'm well aware of the consequences, as I know what I'm doing. If I didn't want to blow you, I would have waited, or guided your hands to where I want to feel you." He cocked his head, then squinted.

"You bitch. You do that all the time."

"You chose not to complain, or to guide my hands down to your cock." I grabbed hold of his dick and started jerking him off, slowly getting him hard.

"When we started you said you don’t like it when I ask for it too much. You do things when you want them, because you want to do them. Like now." I let go of his dick, holding my hands up.

"When we started having sex you asked me every other day, I didn’t mean you could only ask once every equinox. I can't smell what you want me to do." Bjorn whined as he rubbed his crotch past my thigh.

"Blow me," he breathed in between his pitiful sounds, as if he had to act pathetic for me to comply. I rolled my eyes with a smile and pushed him on his back.


	127. Bearskin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-09-803

With everything fine between me and Bjorn again, I started worrying about everyone else around me. Bjorn insisted I should be grateful for the peace and quiet and enjoy the coming winter with him, but when all the chores were done I found myself impatient.

"I have to do something," I insisted. "I can't help it, can't you be happy for me that this time around I don't sleep all day?"

"That doesn't mean you have to stir up trouble again. Please, just let it be. Come spend the day in my arms, you can teach me some more Dutch, or I could tell you some new stories about the gods." He was still sleepy, and his aim was off when he tried to grasp at me. I rolled on top of him, kissed him awake, then rolled off the other side.

"It's a beautiful day, I just know it. I won't be out for long, I promise. We'll do the naked cuddling on a bear skin by a fire thing when I get back."

"Will we, now? I thought you hated furs on the floor, they get dirty."

"Not as dirty as we will." He leaned in for another kiss, but I was too eager to get going. I slid on a dress and put on my shoes.

"At least eat something before you go," Bjorn said with his head lost in his pillow. I couldn’t understand how he slept with the sun, as if he were a chicken. Whenever the days grew short he tended to stay in bed, rising with the sun, while I obeyed my body's eight hour rhythm throughout the year.

"We don't have anything left."

"What are you talking about? You've been to the market almost every day."

"I want to get that spicy sausage," I insisted.

"The one that makes you throw up when you're with child?"

"I don't get sick in the morning yet. I'll be fine, I promise." Bjorn gave up when I opened the door, letting himself fall back on the matress.

A bracing wind blew over town, cheering me up even more. The goats were munching on their breakfast, not bothering to check up with me as I walked past. Still, I scratched Happy between his horns, then made my way back to the main road, past our house again as I walked up to the market stalls.

There were hardly any vendors left this time of year, and I made sure it was worth their while. A fur trader on his way back to Trondheim told me Harald was gathering more men than before, and a tailor told me all about the latest fashion, and that I would look ravishing in his new designs. We talked about what they would look like if they came in the spring when I was showing, haggled over the price, the color, and finally the fabric. Both pleased about our agreement, I went on to the next stall, where a spicer wanted to gossip about something that broke my happy mood.

"Lagertha has returned to Hedeby," she told me. "Her ship was laden with gifts, and it's said she had the most wonderful stories to tell. But I didn't see her, no one did. We figured she would be out and about, prancing with her riches."

"She's not one to prance," I said warily. "When did she get back?"

"A week ago, when I left." That was a long time not to be seen.

"Was she wounded, perhaps?"

"Not that I saw. I doubt you'll hear more before the snows set in, everyone is headed home."

"Yes, I can understand that. Thank you, in any case." I pressed a gold coin in her hand, in exchange for three of the spicy sausages. He held onto my hand though, his eyes boring into mine.

"I worry for her. I could return, see if I can find out more." That wasn't the agreement, at all.

"I pay you to come here with all the information you can get, not to offer a second run for more money. If that doesn't suit you, go find another port to lay your wares down." Hild had no right to try and extort me like that, and she knew it. The news she bore had not put me in a haggling mood, to begin with.

"I have other business to attend to, princess. This is a side deal, not my main product."

"Then clearly I have been overpaying you for your services." I tore the coin from her hand and threw a normal silver one on her counter. She snarled, but took the coin.

"How am I to make a decent living off of this? I have a son who needs to save up for a bride price."

"I'm sure you are familiar with the concept of supply and demand. Either get him a lesser wife, or bring me better information next time you want to do business."

"Oh, I'll return to Hedeby all right. I'll tell them all about how Torvi almost died here, and what your king is up to." She was bluffing, even I only had scraps to go on where it concerned Ragnar. And all anyone knew about Torvi was how she kept to herself, and rested a lot since the so-called miscarriage.

"Even better. You can give Torvi a ride home, she misses her son. We'll call it even, then."

"You can't - "

"We had an agreement, Hild. Silver for scoops, copper for first confirmation, and no foul play. Gold coins are only for the few that bring me news from Hedeby or Vestfold. You trying to get me to pay double for a gold coin sounds like foul play to me. Getting Torvi home is you making up for that. You already seem to know what she's been through, so you had better take care of her." Grumbling, she agreed.

I had spoken to the rest of the vendors yesterday, so I returned to the hall to tell Torvi she could go home. It was sure to lift her spirits, but I found her still asleep when I came in. She looked horrible, even more so than before. The pain still lingered, much to my concern. She should have been feeling better by now, but at least the bleeding had stopped. There was little I could do for her but pray.

Sigurd was up and about, eager to have me sit with him. If anyone could lift my mood when Bjorn was not around, it was that boy. He was intently following Ubbe and Hvitserk play a game of tafl.

"Who's winning?" I asked as I sat down. Instinctively I pulled Sigurd close, even though he didn’t look up at me to ask if it was okay. He was engrossed with the game.

"Hvitserk," Sigurd said with glee. It wasn't often Ubbe was driven into a corner, or more accurately put, his king was stuck in the middle.

"He's getting better," Ubbe admitted. Hvitserk beamed up at me, one front tooth missing from his smile since two days, glad to finally get the hang of how Ubbe played and how to beat him. Torstein had been pointing out the finer details to him, and it showed. Not that I knew myself, the game was still a mystery to me. I was used to the balance of chess too much.

"Where did your father go?"

"He's out," Ubbe said, almost annoyed that I dared ask him a question as he was thinking. He pushed a piece forward, and Hvitserk immediately moved a piece of his forward as well, causing Ubbe to grunt.

"I'll find him later. Good luck with your game." I tried to kiss his temple, but Ubbe brushed me aside. Sigurd was more than happy to take two kisses, as was Hvitserk. I left them with a smile, hoping to see Aslaug on my way home. Instead, I saw Idu over at the goats.

"Ragnhild," she said with a bow as I came closer.

"Good morning. Have you seen Aslaug, or Ragnar?"

"Aslaug went to Floki's with Ivar, and Ragnar... He's out."

"I know, I was wondering where he went. I have news." She turned back to the goats, making me wary.

"I can pass it along, if you like..."

"Idu?"

"He doesn't want to be disturbed. I'm to bring him some food shortly."

"Okay... It can wait, if he's busy. I'll come by later today." She kept avoiding my eyes.

"He'll be out for the day."

"Tonight, then. I'll see you around." As I made my way home, Aslaug was just returning. She too avoided my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, you know how the Seer can be." Idu had just said she had been to Floki's... Something was definitely up.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather not. I have something important to do..."

"Don't let me keep you. If Torvi wakes up, I found her passage back to Hedeby, in two days' time."

"I'm sure that will cheer her up," Aslaug said with a smile. She left me without another word, making me wary all over again.

"Aslaug. When you had that vision, that I am with child... What did you See?"

"Oh, it was nothing. I have them all the time, most of them are harmless." Her smile was just a bit too wide, and her eyes a bit too sad. It rubbed me the wrong way entirely. "I have to get going, if you see Ragnar, could you tell him to come home?"

"I will." She walked off, and I was left asking myself if I wanted to go home first, or stalk after Idu immediately. I chose to tell Bjorn where I was headed, but as soon as I came in Idu and Ragnar were far from my mind.

"I know you," Bjorn said without looking back. He was almost done feeding the twins. On the floor next to the fire was his shaggy bearskin. Bjorn was barely dressed himself. “I laid it out already, so you can’t go back on your word now.”

"Actually, I..."

"You promised." I would find out later. I closed the door, then the shutters, and then I got naked myself. Bjorn smiled as I gave him a hug from behind, wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm invoking the honesty law," I said.

"Honesty law? What's that?"

"I have something to tell you, about what I just found out. And I want to tell you because I want to be honest with you. But it might spoil the mood a little."

"And how is that a law?"

"If you invoke it, the other has to listen to what you have to say."

"Honey, that's called being an adult. What did you find out?" I huffed, but I knew he was right. At least he knew I was hesitant to bring it up.

"Ragnar and Idu are up to something. He's out, and only she knows where he is." He glanced around and raised his eyebrow.

"So they're fucking. Is that it? You wanted to blow off our day so you could watch them?"

"No, but..." Was it that simple? "I don't know. I got this weird vibe from Idu. Aslaug too, she was at Floki's with Ivar, but then she told me she was at the Seer's when I ran into her."

"So you got wrong information, from..."

"Idu," I sighed. "Alright, I get your point." He was done feeding the twins and turned around to clean up. I picked Thormund up, but he was in a rebellious mood. He kept trying to kick at me, I had to put him down for a second after he hit my breast.

“Damn you,” I muttered, not liking how glad Thormund was to have hit something. I checked to see if I'd end up with a bruise.

"You were right," Bjorn said as he wrapped his arms around me, taking over from me massaging my own breast. "Today is a wonderful day. Just look at our son."

Holding onto the edge of the table, he tried to walk over the bench, towards his sister.

"We should have used Siggy as bait all this while," I whispered, barely containing my enthusiasm. He put his foot forward, wobbled, then his hand got moved ahead, another wobble, and then his other feet dragged in front of him. Siggy let herself fall on the bench and rolled on her stomach, then crawled towards her brother. He didn't know how to get down again, bending his knees was still a mystery.

Bjorn laughed out loud as he walked up to them and picked them both up, and soon they were laughing with him. It was infectious, but as I got close Thormund tried to kick at me again.

"Stop that," I said, but he kept on going. Bjorn moved him around, but in doing so Thormund saw an opportunity to get a lucky hit in on my shoulder.

"What's gotten into him?" Bjorn asked. He walked over to the crib and put both of them in. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, he's not that strong yet. It's just..." I sighed out loud, trying to let it go. He was probably just showing off how strong he'd gotten, but this wasn't the way to go about it. Unfortunately he was still too young to reason with him, and I didn't want to get mad at him if he couldn't understand why. "At least Siggy's sweet as can be."

"She's got a bit of a mean streak as well. You know she loves pulling on my beard." It was sweet, what he was trying to do, but this was where my past came to haunt me. I had to find a way to show Thormund I wasn't happy about his kicking at me, while at the same time not discouraging him from kicking at the air.

"I found passage for Torvi," I said to change the subject. "Hild tried to extort me, so she's making up for it now."

"That means you know about Hedeby..." Bjorn leaned into me to the point I had to take a step back. He pulled me away from the fire pit, but kept his intense look.

"She's back, for a little under two weeks now. Hild told me she hasn't seen her, no one has. She came back with all kinds of treasure, but otherwise she hasn't told a soul about what happened."

"She'll talk to Torvi. You know how much they trust each other."

"They can help each other. At least, I hope so. Whatever happened there, it wasn't good."

"Maybe I should go with them, see for myself."

"Bjorn... If she wanted to talk to you, she would have come by here first."

"She must have been worried about her people, so shortly after..." He too knew that staying away for eight months meant three more days to make the trip here wouldn't matter. She had made a conscious decision not to sail past Kattegat.

"The best we can do is help Torvi get home. If something is wrong I'll find out, there's bound to be a few more traders in the coming days." He sighed, letting me pull him towards the bear skin. "I'm worried as well, but we can't do anything for her unless she wants us to. Give her time."

"Like we gave Torvi time?" It wasn’t fair to say that, but he didn’t know. Torvi had confessed to having taken more tea despite my warnings, which was why she had been bleeding so much. She had effectively poisoned herself, and now she had to take her time to recover.

It had made me wonder if the baby was even Erlendur’s at all. Ragnar had lost interest in Torvi almost as soon as the baby had been stillborn, but he didn’t give an explanation as to why the baby was so important to him. And with the timing, it hardly added up either. Erlendur had been gone for at least a moon by that time, while Torvi had stayed in Hedeby. And as much as I was curious, I had made a vow. I wouldn’t get involved, I didn’t ask questions I didn’t need the answer to. The gods had decided to spare her life, and only time would tell if she was still fertile.

"She's still in pain, you can't blame her for wanting to rest. She’s been through a lot. Honestly, two weeks to get over losing your child? I can imagine something like that staying with you for the rest of your life." Bjorn lay down with his head in my lap. I pulled out his braid and loosened his hair a bit. "It's getting long. Do you want me to cut it for you?"

"Not now. Today is about us, and cuddling, and being naked with the woman who carries my child. Just do that thing you do." With a smile I let my hands slide over his scalp, moving through his hair with a slow care. He closed his eyes and snuggled up to me some more, letting one of his hands rest on my stomach.

We sat like that for a while, and slowly Bjorn relaxed again. It was still a miracle to me how he could love his mother like this, but as I glanced over at the twins I thought about how dependent they were on us. As much as we loved them, they must be feeling the same.


	128. The Carving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-09-803

Floki was carving some grand statue in honor of a half forgotten god whose name I'd heard only twice before while I lay on my back and stared up through the leaves. The canopy was shedding fast, but I didn't mind. I had grown to love the cold, as it meant Bjorn was with me. The summer meant worrying, and only women and old men around to talk to.

"I don't believe you," Floki said after a good long minute. "You've seen them, but you've never seen a good one."

"Oh, but I have. It was beautiful, but the smell was awful, like fish."

"Pfah, nonsense. A bit sour perhaps at times, but never like fish."

"No, I swear. It's what happens when women don't take care of it, or sometimes they're just born with a fishy smell."

"Why would a woman still feel like she deserves a proper cock, when she doesn't clean it?" He blew some scraps of wood from the brow of his god.

"I don't know," I said as I shrugged my shoulders. "Some women can't help it. I know my smell changed." I turned my head to see how he would react.

"I know you changed since you got here, little songbird. I don't need to know the full extent, unless you mean to invite us to your bed someday soon." I didn't know how to react to that. Helga, sure, but Floki... It would be weird. He was ten years older than me, like Tom had been, and in some ways I saw him as a surrogate parent, not a friend. Besides, I didn't want Bjorn to have sex with anyone but me. Helga was beautiful, and appealing, but not alluring enough to counter my jealousy. "I thought so. Keep quiet, if you don't know about the wonders of a vagina."

"I've seen my fair share, you know that." I held out a hand to keep the sun from my eyes, as if i wasn't glad to have a few rays of sunlight shining down on my face.

"That's expired. How many cunts have you seen since you've been here?"

"Just when a baby came out," I admitted.

"Would you go down on one of those?" Floki smiled, knowing just which babies I had seen born.

"Who said it doesn't count anymore? I saw more than Bjorn."

"You've never invited someone else to your bed? Poor boy..."

"We are more than satisfied," I countered.

"It's not about being satisfied, it's about experiencing new things. Even you could still learn a few things."

"I don't want to share him." Floki finally looked up from his carving.

"You're jealous?"

"No! It's... I don't know." I rolled over on my stomach and plucked some strands of grass out.

"I'm not judging... I'm just wondering. Would it be such a bad thing?"

"Not bad, but... I don't know. It just doesn't feel right."

"Ah, there it is. Your feelings, about right and wrong. It should be about what you want, and what Bjorn wants."

"We're happy, why bother risking everything turning to shit again?"

"Because you tend to attract shit. Like that wanderer." I sat up, taking in Floki's expression. He knew.

"What do you want to know?" He leaned on his carving, taking a moment before he answered.

"What did you feel that made you want to kill him?"

"I felt... Wary. Something was off."

"Like what?"

"What does it matter? He turned out to be a danger, to all of us."

"Ragnhild. Don't insult me." I took a deep breath and sat up again, glad to be wearing a cloak I could hide myself in.

"How would you know when Ragnar goes too far? Or anyone else you've known your entire life?"

"You didn't know him all your - oh, no. No, don't... That... That piece of shit, the one you let into your home, that helped give birth to my daughter..."

"He was my brother," I admitted, keeping my gaze at the grass I was still pulling out.

Floki let out a series of grunts and muffled shrieks. I shrank at the sound of an axe hitting wood, then again when the carving fell over and broke in half. I wasn't surprised when Floki came up from behind and held a knife to my throat.

"How could you," he whispered, the blade shaking in his hand. "You put Helga's life in his hands..."

"I wanted to know what it was like to trust my family," I whispered back. "I thought he could be like me, and change for the better." Jozef had taken foolish risks back then, when Angrboda was born. I had been worried then, and still I wanted to keep believing in my fairy tale ending. Only now did I realize he must have been out to have me prevent as many Viking from being born as he could, but somehow he had taught me how to help women give birth as well, without causing any complications. Jozef had been a complicated individual, and only one thing was clear to me. It was as hard to love him as it was difficult to be loved by him.

"You..." Floki lowered the knife, but kept his grasp on me. "You're insufferable at the best of days, with your ideas of kindness... I come out here to escape how horribly good my wife is, and then I agree that you can sit with me, and you tell me you're worst of all..."

"I killed him," I reminded him.

"Yes, you did. You killed a criminal, a filthy traitor, after he lived with us for moons, at your insistence. How long did it takes you to see how right our gods are?" My eyes found the carving, seeing the hollowed out eyes staring at me, like Jozef's had.

"Floki, please. I know how bad it was, I know I fucked up. Why do you think Ragnar still bears a grudge?"

"Then why did you come here! Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it, do you feel like Bjorn is too kind on you for what happened? I trusted you! You were supposed to take care of Helga for me!"

"I killed someone!" I closed my eyes, unable to look at the statue any longer. Floki's grasp loosened around my neck. "I killed someone... With my... I wanted..."

"Floki!" Helga must have heard us screaming. She sounded far off, but she was with us in a few seconds. Her hands freed me from what was left of his hold. "You idiot, how dare you!" Helga held me in a soft embrace, her shaking hands barely able to cup my face.

"Helga, I - "

"She's with child!" He didn't know yet. It was the reason I had come here, one of them at least. "You should know better than to treat her like a goat, you imbecile!"

"It's okay. Helga, I... I hadn't told him yet. It's okay, we're fine."

"But he..."

"I'm fine. Thank you for caring so much. We won't be long." With a last doubtful look she left us again, leaving a tense quiet.

I pulled up my legs and hugged my knees, keeping my eyes on Floki's hands. The way he moved them around all the time, it was like he was praying all day. One of his hands got close, until a finger touched my forehead. It made me smile, until Floki did it again, now a little harder.

"What's wrong with you?" he muttered. I waved away his hand and stared up at him.

"I killed someone, Floki. I never thought I could, or would want to..." He sighed and let himself fall on his back, his eyes reading the clouds.

"And then you did a thing most Viking consider to be taking it too far? Is that why you came to talk to me?"

"I did." I lay down, getting caught unaware of his outstretched arm behind my neck. He didn't seem to mind, so I lay down anyway. "I feel like I'm breaking, but I know that I'm getting stronger."

"Something did break, my dear Ragnhild. You broke away from your past. You gained freedom, and for that things always need to break first." I turned on my side, seeing Floki was staring up at the clouds.

"I have a secret to tell you. Can you keep it?" Someone had to know about what Ragnar had planned to do with Torvi. It was too much for me to handle, and Bjorn... He would hear it from me tonight, but first I needed to see just how bad this was. I needed Floki to react to know how Bjorn would respond. I needed to know how I could best help him.

"I am known for many things, Ragnhild. I can make the finest boats, and I know much about the gods, and the stars. I married the most beautiful woman in all of Kattegat, and I breached the walls of Paris. But holding a secret is beyond me. And you know that." I thought back to the day he and Helga helped remove my IUD, and how easily Floki had spoken about it to Siggy.

"Then I'll keep it to myself," I sighed. I'd tell Bjorn without proper preparation, and wait to see where the pieces would fall. "Or better yet, I'll tell you a different one. I could be needing your help, with this one. And it concerns the gods." Floki stared at me, glanced at my forehead, then put a hand on my stomach.

"Do you know what it will be?"

"No, not yet. It's not about the child. I think the gods are trying to tell me something."

"Really? And what would that be?"

"I need to do something, before I can fulfil my destiny. There is something I have to learn, or understand, before I can do whatever the gods mean for me to do." He frowned, then tapped my forehead again. With a huff he got to his feet and pulled me up.

"Then what are we waiting for? Do you need to carve something? Or maybe build something even greater than those trebuchets?"

"Actually, I've been thinking about those... I think they could bear more weight, and reach a vastly greater range when they're just a tad larger, we could stabilize the construction with rocks at the bottom, or iron castings."

"You forget, iron is expensive. How do you always forget that? It's hard to come by."

"Then take it on the next raid. Why bother with only gold and silver if there's more you would like? Swords take less room than silver anyway, and they're worth more. Honestly, steal a cargo ship filled to the brim and tow it with you. You can always cut it off when you hit a storm."

"Because it's not our way. We mean to survive, not bring things we need to sell and travel the world for, again. When we come home we have other things to do, ships to build." I glanced around the yard, seeing only carvings.

"Yes, I can see you've been keeping busy. Why so many?"

"Because there is one missing, but I can't remember which one." I knew better than to test his patience and ask on.

"I hope you'll find it."

"Kind, sweet Ragnhild. Always so concerned for others. What about your own destiny?"

"I'll find it... I don't know how, or when, but it will come to me. I'll know it when I see it." He looked over his shoulder, then let out his giggle.

"Oh, we'll see about that..." He brought me to the edge of the lake, where all of his unfinished projects lay strewn across the sand.

"Speaking of seeing things..." Floki rolled his eyes as he got my hand to touch his projects, keeping an eye on my face as he dragged me along.

"More wisdom you seek?"

"Aslaug had a vision, when she told me I was pregnant. But she didn't look happy, and she's been avoiding me ever since."

"So? Your children are a threat to hers. Your marriage is a threat to hers. Why look beyond that?"

"I don't know. It's... A feeling." He blew a raspberry at me. I wiped away the spittle from my face as he jerked me forward to touch half a model of what seemed like a new kind of boat. "Jo - Harbard was just a feeling. I killed him for it. Why should this feeling be different?" Floki stopped dragging me around and touched my nose with his finger. I pulled it up instinctively. Usually that made Floki giggle, but now his eyes were dead serious.

"Every time you have that feeling you will kill someone? First your brother, then Aslaug..."

"No, it's not like that! I don't want to kill Aslaug, I just want to know what she saw."

"Why are you worried? Are you looking for shit to happen to you, now?"

"That's what Bjorn said..." Floki stopped and turned around.

"The past few years have been hard, on all of us, despite the many blessings the gods have given us. Now we get to calm down, and relax, and enjoy how simple life can be."

"Did you know Ragnar is sleeping with Idu? That foreign girl? They go to this cabin Ragnar keeps to himself."

"He can do what he wants, Aslaug offered her to him." That I hadn't known.

"Then why does he hide away with the girl?"

"Ragnhild. Stop. You're going to upset a lot of people if you keep this up. Keep out of other people's business when they don't ask you to intervene. Enjoy your happiness, at least until the next shit comes our way. Then you can snoop around all you want, but for now, go lie naked on furs with your near-virgin husband."

"Just how much does Bjorn tell you about us?"

"Not everything. He loves sharing about how happy you are, and all the things you do that make him worry. Like going after Ragnar to see what he is up to." I knew I shouldn't have risked it with Bjorn out and about.

"I was worried as well," I insisted. "There's something going on there, I know it. They're not just having sex." Once again Floki put a finger to my forehead, this time as he held his other to my stomach.

"You're infuriating," he said as he turned around. "Are you sure this is about Ragnar? It's not you worrying for your child, and not trusting Aslaug?" He was right, but I hated him to making me admit it out loud.

"I can't ignore it, Floki. If anyone understands it's you, something is going on with her."

"Then why come to me? Have you ever heard me say something nice about that woman?" I had to stop and think about it. He hadn't, ever. Was he still pissed Ragnar chose her over Lagertha? I figured they were friends, as Floki's anger usually involved frequent rantings, and sometimes even death.

"Floki..."

"Don't you Floki me. You despise her, but that is no reason to have me join you in your campaign. If you have worries, go to the Seer."

"He tells me to ask Aslaug. It's her vision, not his."

"Then ask someone else to help you. I don't want to get caught up in any of it."

"I know. Which is why I'm desperately asking you for help. Floki, I beg of you. You know the gods better than anyone. I killed someone, a..."

"A what? Someone you cared about?" His anger returned, and there were plenty of sharp tools around for him to fling around.

"A Christian. Why would the gods make me feel so uneasy about my child, right after? I killed scum, I have no regrets. And yet I fear they might punish me for it, all the same." Floki softened, grew wary, got confused, then got decisive again.

"The gods wouldn't do that... No, you're mistaken. Either your feeling is, or they are mad over something else. But it must be horrible, if they would threaten your child."

Immediately, Torvi came to mind. But if the gods meant for her child to have survived... She had spirited away a second flower all by herself, that wasn't on me. I told her of the risks, and her not listening was not on me. She had made a second cup, and she had neglected to remove the flower before drinking.

"Nothing comes to mind," I said as I kept my eyes on a broken paddle, almost overgrown during the summer.

"Nothing you wish to speak on, at any rate. If you can't get Aslaug to tell you about her vision, make your peace with the gods. You know how it works." He meant to walk off, but he froze when he saw me close to tears. He muttered, grunted, but then took me in his arms.

"I'm scared," I whispered. "I can't make it right, not after this many years... Floki, what do I do?"

"Years? Oh, no no no, the gods are not that patient with us. You should not be afraid, the gods are not that cruel. We know what they punish us for, and they don't give us a warning ahead of time." It was strange to see Floki this caring. Maybe it was because he knew how bad it was before, and because he was used to me getting emotional, even though it had gotten less since we got back from Paris. But he didn't show this kind of care to anyone else, Helga included.

It helped. His words, his tone, it was different from Bjorn's, but Floki consoled me in a way only he could. It was almost as if he had something motherly that I had missed out on my entire life. The realization made me chuckle.

"See? Everything will be alright. The gods love you, Ragnhild. They will not threaten your child, or you. Now, what about that destiny of yours. Do you have something fun for me to make? Maybe something to assist you with your destiny?"

"Did you figure out how to make a spring yet? Or cogs?" I wiped away the tears in my eyes, feeling relieved to finally have cried over all of it. Things would be better now, there was nothing to worry about.

"Not yet... The gods need me for something else, first."

"Your carvings," I gathered. "Anyway, it's something I should do, I need to... I don't know. I need to achieve something, but I can't figure out what it is. At least this little cabbage will keep me from finding out anytime soon."

"How long until you are ripe?" he asked.

"I'm not an apple... I'm just one moon in, I think. Aslaug caught it early.

"Then for your sake I will hope there is only one seed in there right now, you'll lose your mind if you have to take care of four screaming, puking little buggers without Bjorn around." I glanced down and let out a nervous chuckle. If this was another set of twins... We would have to move before the summer, and I would need help, get a paid servant to help me out, but one I knew I could trust so Bjorn had to weigh in on it as well, and get a second crib, all the clothing, and the loss of sleep... Gods, help me.


	129. Warts And All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-04-804

The sound of bells ringing made me throw my book against the wall. I knew it was just a matter of time until Harald came here to join on the raid, but it was early for him to make it here.

"Fuck!" I got up and noticed I had to pee, again. At least this time I wasn't so tired from carrying a child around all day. It was just the one, my bump was what I expected for eight moons. Only two more to go...

"Honey, calm down," Bjorn said as he picked up the book while I made my way to the corner.

"There's nothing to be calm about. If I could, I would sink all of Harald's ships and be done with it." I didn't want Ragnar to go to Paris again, I didn't like Harald and his brother coming along, and I hated that Bjorn was dead-set on joining them.

"You don't mean that," he sighed.

"Oh, I most certainly do." Just a tiny bit of pee came out. This little cabbage was intent on putting pressure on my bladder. "And you know perfectly well why that is." We had been fighting over it, plenty. Our blissful, naked winter had turned into one of fighting and accusations, gossip I thought fact and Bjorn thought nonsense.

"I never thought I'd say this, but things were easier when your brother was still alive." Bjorn knew better than to bring that up.

"Then maybe I should've gone with him when I had the chance," I snapped. Bjorn smashed his fist on the table.

"We haven't even been married for a year and this is what we've become?" I wiped off, no more drops would come.

"You refuse to listen to me. If you would, you wouldn't be fighting with me. You would march down to the hall and hold a knife to that bitch's throat until she tells you what she's hiding." I had to do my best to keep from shouting, I hadn't done that in a long time and I wouldn't start now.

It wasn't just me that had lost faith in Aslaug. She had never been much for playing the game well, let alone play it on the ones she said she cared about. But somehow, I was the only one to see her keeping her mouth shut for what it was.

"You're perfectly capable of doing that yourself," Bjorn said. I took a deep breath. We'd had this fight before, only a few days ago. I knew where this was headed if I threw back that maybe I should.

"Just... Talk to her, one more time. Please. I only need to know if she saw something happening to our child, and what that was." I could try and prevent it, I could save my baby.

"You've done enough talking, to the both of us. You only repeat yourself, as if I can't hear you. I do have ears, you know, and I do understand your fears. But I have to choose now, between my wife and my kingdom." I grunted, eager to rip off his ears. Maybe those were the problem. I made my way back to the bed, holding a hand on my bump.

I had promised to keep from putting myself between him and the kingdom, but that was before the life of our child was in the balance. How could he ask me to not give it my all to keep it safe, when Bjorn didn't need to be the one to choose the kingdom yet?

"Don't you dare give me that crap. You know I understand perfectly well how that all works. And I also know that you are not king yet." I stumbled on my way back to the bed, only barely managing to keep standing. Bjorn rushed to my side. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through me, and the baby.

"Ragnhild..." He held me steady for a moment, allowing me to regain trust in my own feet.

"I'm okay. I just lost my footing for a bit. We're fine." He helped me lay down on the bed again, making sure I was comfortable as I could be. His hand found my belly, as if to make sure the child was comfortable as well.

"Are you? Truly?" The adrenaline gave way to tears. I tried to fight it, but my face distorted, as if all my features were dragged down into the bottomless pit that was my sorrows.

"I need you. I can't have you half a world away, not now. Helga's the only one I'll be able to trust, and she doesn't know me like you do. Please..." Bjorn wrapped himself around me, sitting behind me with his knees up. He was like a safe cocoon of warmth and understanding. Just for a moment I was safe from the judgement, and the pain that I knew would come. "I'm not worried over nothing. This isn't a useless fear. You must have seen it as well, Aslaug is hiding something from me." His hand caressed my bump. I felt his breath move past my neck.

"I know your trust has been violated a lot again, but it's different this time. Aslaug would never let anything happen to you, or the child." And it was for that exact reason I was terrified. Something would happen, during the birth. That much I had gathered from her reactions. And I knew she would not let me give my life to save the child.

"Even Ragnar doesn't trust her anymore. Why else would he take Ubbe and Hvitserk with him?"

"He has his reasons, and they have nothing to do with her visions. She cheated on him, twice. It has nothing to do with you. You don't have to be this mistrusting when it comes to family. My half, at the least." He was right, Jozef's death had done a number on me. I had trusted him, and it had almost cost me everything I had.

"I'm not mistrusting. I'm telling you, this is different." I knew what paranoia was, how it felt. This wasn't believing something was wrong, this was knowing.

"Then why can't I see the difference?" His words were like a dagger to the heart. This wasn't like before, he knew all too well how I could lash out when I felt threatened. I had moved past that, I had gotten better. He had helped me as he always did, he had told me it was getting better every now and then, since the twins had been born and he had come back to me it had all gone so well.

"It's not like I'm saying she's keeping it from me because of what happened with Ivar after he was born," I tried to counter, but my heart wasn't in it. If Bjorn thought I was getting worse again… It wasn't like that.

"But the thought has crossed your mind." I couldn't tell him that it hadn't. It made me doubt everything.

"I know you have to support your father during the raid. I know he's using some sort of drugs, and that he needs you. But I need you more. Ragnar has plenty of people to support him, like your mother, and Floki, and Torstein. He'll pull through, he always does. I'll only have Helga and I'll be up against Aslaug and Vinh. They scare me more than Rollo ever could." Bjorn sighed, stroking my hair absent-mindedly. I was falling back to our previous fights. He would say it was about more than bringing Rollo to justice, and that he thought I knew that. That I just had to be strong, like he knew I could be, and then I'd fall apart because I didn't feel strong at all.

"We have to get going. They'll be here by now," Bjorn said after a while. I kept my eyes on the wall ahead, perfectly content with silence and his hands on my belly.

"I'm not hungry."

"We have to make an appearance, at the least. And you need to eat, you know that." He didn't move. It told me he would rather stay in as well.

"I'll be due somewhere halfway June," I told his knee. It was at least an attempt to compromise. An opening bid, a start.

"Unless we take Paris in a week that'll be tough." They had a larger force this time, and plenty of iron plates to build nine trebuchets. One good fight was all it would take.

"It's not like I can make the baby wait for you to come back. Why can't you take a boat and head back early?" I felt Bjorn take in a deep breath as he realized what I wanted from him.

"Because that would mean I'll be gravely injured. Ragnhild, please stop. Can't you see how hard this is for me? I want to comfort you and tell you everything will be fine, but I can't. It's not a part of me that I like, but a part of me all the same. You knew that when we started dating, and when we got married. Twice." He got up now, leaving me vulnerable to the outside world. I wanted to curl up in my cocoon, and not emerge until I held a beautiful, healthy child in my arms. "I can tell the others you fell asleep, if you really don't want to come," he offered.

"I'll come with." I wasn't looking forward to facing off Aslaug again, but at the least I would see Harald and Halfdan again. They had grown on me, like a favorite wart. Life would be better without them, but they had their charm.

Bjorn helped me up and put on a clean shirt himself, while I tried to wash the redness off of my face.

"I love you," Bjorn told me. His hands encased my face, and his forehead touched mine. One of his thumbs gently caressed my hair line. "No matter how much we fight, or disagree, I want you to know that. I want to be here for you, but I can't. It's not -" I put up a hand, feeling a spark lit up inside of me.

"If you mean to say it's not how we do things, I swear I'll have your balls taken off."

"It's not something I can change," Bjorn finished, "but if I could, I would." I felt like an asshole. This was exactly what Bjorn had warned me about. I was starting to assume the worst, every chance I got.

We kept silent on our way over. I was lost in thought, trying to think of how Bjorn must have seen our fights lately. I felt even worse when he took the effort to pull back my seat for me. Harald and Halfdan were already seated, eagerly tearing into their food.

"What took you so long? I'm sure you can't get another baby in there just yet." I smiled as Harald put a hand on my arm by way of greeting, grease dripping down his beard. "How long do you have left?" he asked.

"Ten weeks, I think. It's just the one this time, so I doubt it'll come out before it's due. How have you been?" Harald flashed me one of his confident smiles.

"Wonderful, we had an amazing year. How are the twins?"

"A handful, as always. They're starting to walk so fast I have trouble catching up to them."

"Siggy called me papa today," Bjorn said in a tone that said he'd won this pissing match.

"Before long you'll want them to shut up," Ragnar said. "They'll start nagging you for swords and shields of their own." Hvitserk pouted a little as he heard.

"You did raise them to be warriors," I pointed out, giving Hvitserk a quick wink. "You can't expect them not to want to fight."

"It was you who raised them to make themselves heard," Ragnar shot back.

"What do you expect? First you teach children how to talk, and then you order them to shut up and listen. How does that even make sense?" Ragnar turned to Floki, not wanting to talk further.

"It's a shame you won't be joining us," Halfdan said with his mouth full. He swallowed it down with half a horn of ale. "I'd love some new stories when we're on our way." As if I'd ever go raiding again, and sail on their ship. Muspelheim would need to freeze over before that happened.

"I'm sure the boys will know plenty of my stories, as will Bjorn," I assured him.

"I wasn't thinking about the things you tell the children before they fall asleep. What of the battles you know of?" Halfdan eyed me curiously as I tore off a tiny piece of bread and drenched it in grease, then smothered it in salt.

"I know you're quite knowledgeable about warfare. Why not share those?" Harald asked before I could answer his brother.

"She hardly has the time to share them with me," Bjorn said. "Between the twins and all the visitors coming by we barely have time for ourselves as it is. It's always crazy right after the ice breaks." Not to mention my fears growing worse, as had our fights.

"How many visitors do you get?" I had just bitten into the soggy, salty bread, leaving Bjorn to answer for me.

"With the first ships it was insane. She spent two days talking about... Well, only the gods know." Many of the women had been stunned to hear I no longer shared out the yellow tea, and instead directed them towards Vinh to get their medicine. Bjorn had felt so uneasy when I had brought it up, amongst the talk of our own child... It had become too much for me. He knew I might start up again at one point, but at least until our child was born I decided to lay low.

"It's all confidential," I said after a hard swallow. "I can't exactly help people when they fear me blabbing all about it. And it's not that bad, most people insist on leaving something at our doorstep. We haven't had to go out to buy honey for ages. In fact, if you'd like a pot we're happy to get rid of it."

"It won't do to decline a gift from the vessel. I'm sure it will come in handy at one point or another," Harald said. I just wanted to get rid of the surplus, I could fill up a bathtub with the stuff. We needed room for the baby, and we still hadn't decided if the twins should move to a bed, or if we'd make due with a second crib.

"What other gifts do you have for us?" Halfdan asked. "Do you know what we'll have to face?"

"Last time the Franks barely put up a fight," Harald said with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure that if Ragnhild has Seen something, we'll hear about it." I hadn't even considered what they might be facing. I'd been too busy trying to keep Bjorn in Kattegat to be concerned with anything else.

"He's had plenty of time to prepare, brother. Just because she hasn't Seen anything doesn't mean he doesn't have some tricks up his sleeve."

"Whatever Rollo will throw at us, we'll beat him." Harald sounded so confident, I wanted to punch his face in.

"Oh, come on," I sighed. "Like you people know the first thing about fighting a battle on the water. We're raiders, not pirates. Rollo's had two years to prepare, do you really think he's just been busy getting those walls back up?"

"Is there something you might want to tell us?" Harald asked, his face getting so still it was obvious he tried to keep down his nerves.

"Honey?" Bjorn spoke in Dutch, sensing we'd need some privacy.

"At home."

"Is it those big?"

"That big. It might... Save your life, in fact."

"Why not say it earlier?" A look told him all he needed to know.

"Just you." He let out a tired sigh, taking in his father. The bags under Ragnar's eyes were undeniable now. And still, Bjorn refused to believe Ragnar was a junkie, even after I told him that he had planned to take Torvi as a second wife. Somehow, the fact she had a child by both Borg and Erlendur made him think there was some synchronicity that had spoken to the depths of his spirit, to hear him say it. He was ludicris, delusional, confused at best.

"What is that language?" Harald asked.

"My own. It's perfect for speaking privately amongst our enemies." He showed his teeth in a grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. I'd forgotten just how ugly warts could be.

"Who else speaks it, that we may know?"

"Dead men," I said as my mind wandered to Jozef. What would he say about my fears? He would probably know what to expect, and what to do. He would be able to calm me. Bjorn was right, things were easier when he was around.

"Ragnhild." Aslaug's warning came too late. Harald's face fell into a scowl as I realized I was letting my anger over her and Bjorn seep into what had been friendly conversation thus far.

"It's not a language spoken by anyone but me and Bjorn," I clarified. "It happens all the time. Civilizations get wiped out, and their language dies with them." Giving out false information about my past could only serve to make it harder for people to discover my secret. Bjorn was still coming to terms with some of it.

"Then all of your people died?" Halfdan asked.

"I'd rather not speak of death today. It's been on my mind a lot lately." My eyes locked on Ragnar, but I kept my attention on Aslaug. She tried to keep her cool, but I could see. She was... Something. It was off, but I couldn't say what it was. She'd seen me giving birth, and death. But who would die? It could be anybody, really, except for me. Aslaug would have found a way if that were the case, she needed me alive.

"It's been a strange year for us. I'm sure you heard the rumors," Ragnar said.

"Of that rat who tried to overthrow you, after he already had Hedeby? Yes, we heard. I was wondering about that, is it true he had an accomplice, who was struck down by the gods?"

"He was," Bjorn said with ease. "He tried to spread rumors about Ragnhild, and before they could leave his lips he fell down." The brothers both took in a deep breath and sat back.

"Ragnhild? Is everything okay?" Harald had a sense of urgency in his voice, making me look up. His eyes were trained on my belly.

"Huh? Oh, everything's fine, the baby's moving around."

"May I?"

"Go ahead." I guided his hand to where the baby was kicking. His eyes lit up as he felt it.

"That's a warrior in the making. He'll be a fierce opponent to whomever stands against him."

"And how is it you know if it'll be a boy?"

"With such a kick, how could it be a girl?"

"Obviously you've never met Siggy. We'll know for sure once the child is born." Bjorn leaned in close, pressing his lips to my cheek.

"If you want to get out of here, just let me know," he whispered. I gave a slight nod. All this talk of the child made me anxious. "You look tired, are you sure you don't want to lie down for a bit? I know you haven't been sleeping well."

"Maybe that's for the best..." I shot Harald and Halfdan an apologetic look.

"I'm sure we'll meet again before we leave. Take care." Halfdan just put up his hand by way of greeting, busy tearing into a large piece of bread. Bjorn helped me get up and out of the hall, then walked me home.

We kept quiet as we made our way home. My arm was locked in Bjorn's, wanting to keep him close for the time he would still be here. I needed him, but he'd never stay back for me. He would join the raid, and I would have to pray to the gods to keep him safe.

As we reached home, Bjorn helped me out of my cloak. I'd have to do without those kind gestures for a while. As I sat down I watched him put away our cloaks, then as he sat down opposite of me.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked.

"Because I..." I averted my eyes.

"You held out hope." Bjorn took my hands in his. "And now? What's changed?"

"I don't want you to die. I know this is part of it and all that, you don't need to repeat that. But with Harald and Halfdan here... I need to tell you."

"Why me, and not Ragnar?"

"Because he'll fuck up. He'll make a mistake, and then you'll need to take over."

"I told you, he's fine. Okay, not fine, but he's still my father. He will get us to Paris. He's not on some sort of drugs."

"Bjorn, please. I told you, it takes one to know one. You've never seen anything like it. It's different from drinking too much, even if he were to admit it now, he wouldn't be able to stop without having to - Bjorn!" He was trying to get up, but I pulled on his arm.

"He's not addicted!"

"He is."

"You... Just tell me what you know about Paris. I don't want to fight anymore. We've done enough of that for one day." He didn't have that long left, before he would leave. But none of this made sense to me. I didn't have much time left, either.

"What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with the river. That'll be the first thing we hit." As soon as they hit the mouth of the Seine, they were in Rollo's territory. He owned the lands, which meant he could do in it whatever he wanted.

"Well, you've been there once before. It's bending like crazy, with a lot of forest and cliffs on each side. Rollo might have used that to his advantage. In my time there's strongholds and towers all along the Seine, built to beat back any attackers. We might be the reason that even begins. So I think he might have erected some kind of fort. He could have some small parties of archers patrolling along the river, to keep you on edge all the while. If they land a burning arrow on the mast, or the sails, that would severely limit your mobility."

"That would be a huge problem... We could keep the sails up once we hit the river." The way he frowned told me he had pushed our fight aside completely. He was a prince now, not my husband. It was curious to see how fast he could switch between those two roles.

"And maybe some thick woven cloths, to put out a fire if it comes to that. Fire dies if it doesn't get any air." Bjorn nodded, he'd see to it.

"What about the fort?"

"They're meant to stop you from passing through. I remember this story about cutting off passage with a huge iron chain, that you lift up once the ships are in position, but then they would have one on each side of the banks. They can't turn back once they're all huddled together, so you just light them up. With all the rubble and burning parts on the surface even those who can swim will have a hard time getting to safety."

"And his men?"

"Mostly archers, I think. From a vantage point they are the most deadly. If he's got half a brain they will have oil as well, and ditches around the entrances. Either way, I think it would be a mistake to try and rush through it. Or when you do, make sure Harald will go up front." Warts were still better when they died off.

"How many of those forts do you think there will be?"

"How arrogant do you think Rollo is?" I asked in return.

"Just the one, then. That doesn't sound that bad." My eyes narrowed.

"Then there must be more. The Franks have a fair fleet as well at one point, they'll go to war with England in a few centuries, and beat the crap out of them."

"War ships? Do you think he has that kind of pull?"

"Rollo will know how many men we're likely to take, so he will prepare accordingly. You have to remember, they won't let him strategize and plan on his own. There are more capable minds than his behind their plans, he just gives them details on how we usually fight and defend ourselves." Bjorn took in a deep breath, slowly letting the air go through his nose. His hands were folded in front of his mouth, he was thinking about things that used to terrify me. His eerie calm took over, a strange kind of emptiness, a void that swallowed all his empathy.

"Forts, raiding parties, that chain, ships..." Bjorn blinked twice, then squeezed the bridge of his nose. He usually saved that for fights that dragged on. He was troubled by my information, he was fighting a battle inside his own mind.

"He knows not to underestimate his brother. I'm just laying out the options, who knows what you'll come across."

"Only the gods know... We never had to face off against one of our own like this before, and I'm not feeling at ease about you either." Bjorn kissed my hands. "I don't want to separate in anger." It would only occupy him during the raid, and already I could see how hard this one would be on him.

"I don't want that, either. I know you made up your mind."

"If I had a choice..."

"You always have a choice, Bjorn. And whatever you choose, there will be consequences."

"If only I could be in two places at the same time. I have to get back, but I'll try to be home soon." I cocked my head, I thought he would stay in. It was already getting late.

"What for?"

"I'll try and talk to Aslaug one last time, for you." I didn't know what to say. It felt like my heart was singing, but all that came from my mouth was a pitiful whine as I held onto his hands.

"I know, you're grateful, but I really have to get going now. She was well in her cups, I don't want her to be in bed when I get there." He was right, but I couldn't say it. I gestured I'd be fine, and for him to get going.

I got ready for bed, trying my hardest not to get my hopes up. What would even happen if Bjorn got my answers? Would he stay, or be able to fix it, whatever it was? What - what if he couldn't? What if all he found out was that there was no way to save the child?

I curled up into a ball, protecting my belly. It would live, I would make sure of it. No one would harm it, ever.

Bjorn came back sooner than I had expected. I heard him take off his cloak, then how he put his belt on the table. He knew I didn't like it when he did that, but that was the least of my worries. My lashes were heavy with tears as I saw his worried look.

He kicked off his boots next, and his pants. Then his shirt followed. Standing before me naked, he looked like a giant, with even larger sorrows weighing him down.

"How..." Bjorn sat down on the bed and pulled on my nightgown. I let him undress me, too. "Bjorn, what..."

"Nothing will happen. This is all in your head." He sat down, leaning into the wall. He beckoned for me to come sit with him. As I felt his warm skin against my back he wrapped his arms around me, one over my belly and one across my shoulders. "I'm sad because I thought all of this was behind us. You've been doing so well, and now I will have to leave you when you need me." I felt his thumb moving over the bump.

"I'm not broken," I said, sounding like a stubborn child. I knew Bjorn had given it his all. Had he found anything that might have told him I was at least partially right, he wouldn't have been this sad. Then he would have understood and reasoned with me. This… This was him asking me to give up on my folly.

I wouldn't be able to convince him, ever. To him, it was fact that this was all just my imagination. I sensed his fear of me slipping back even further in the way he clutched me.

"No, not anymore," he said, trying to sound strong. "But there are still cracks, you told me so yourself. And this... It's a big crack. Ragnhild, nothing will happen to the child. You need to calm down, and realize that it's all in your head. All this stress can't be good for the baby." He was afraid to tell me what he really thought. How had we come to this? For a split second I was terrified of losing him. I felt my heart slow down for half a beat, then it crashed into my chest. The sadness was so severe it made me feel a little nauseous. Every beat of my heart made it worse.

"But I… I mean, how come… I would've..." I stared at my hands, feeling like my body was a stranger to me. Deep down inside, I would've known if this was a remnant of my issues. I knew it could take years before it was all gone, and I knew that I still had trouble with depressing thoughts sometimes, but this… Bjorn wouldn't lie to me. He knew me, and he must have seen more things that didn't add up. Plenty of things had happened that could have triggered some kind of relapse, had I really been so blind?

"Then what did Aslaug see in her vision?" I asked.

"It could be about anything. Maybe she's worried about what this child will do to her. But she would never willfully hurt the child. She promised." I tried to turn around, but Bjorn kept me in place. He pulled me closer, resting his head on my shoulder. I could feel how ragged his breathing was.

"Bjorn..."

"Just let me hold you," he whispered. "Let me love you, and feel you close. I don't want to lose you, ever. I don't know how I could survive. I have no qualms about dying in battle, but having to live without you..." His fingers pressed on the stretching skin of my belly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise me. I need to know that when I get back, you'll be here." If push came to shove... I'd give my life for this child. I couldn't make such a promise.

"I don't have to promise you anything. The gods know what will happen, and they will watch over us both." I took hold of his hands and kissed both of his palms. "You have their blessing, as do I." Bjorn only seemed to grow more sullen.

"Then we'll see each other again, when I return at the end of summer." The end of summer... That was almost half a year.

"That's too long."

"From there it can only grow shorter. You know we have to get back in time for the men to help with the harvests." I knew, of course. But I didn't like it. "I love you. With all of my heart, I love you. I never want to spend a day knowing I'll never see you again."

"I love you, too." Bjorn tilted my head a bit, allowing him to kiss me. He withdrew a leg and guided me to lie on my side. His body followed mine, his hands following my curves.

"We'll leave tomorrow." I had to fight back the tears that threatened to come out. I'd spilled enough of them today. On this, our last night, I wanted to be proud of him, and wish him luck, and be supportive, even though I felt anything but that.

"You know what that means," I whispered.

"I do. I just want to hold you close, and make love." He could have asked for anything, as I would be able to ask for anything the day he returned. And he chose to comfort me, to give me a sweet memory to hold on to.

"I love you so much. If you die out there - "

"Not until tomorrow. Don't you dare break tradition." I choked on my tears as a laugh came from my mouth. Our silly little superstition, but so far it had worked. It wouldn't do to tempt the gods.

Bjorn rubbed his hips against my rear and started palming a breast. I hated making love like this, but this was one of two positions that were comfortable for both of us with my belly in the way. I was unable to touch him, I could only lie and enjoy the pleasure he gave me.

"Ragnhild... Oh, you beautiful woman. Once again I'll be gone to see your body change for the best part of it. The one after this, it has to be born before I leave again."

"We've little say in the matter... If this one's born in June, it'll be a few moons until I can conceive again. You would have to wait until - ohh!" Bjorn had dipped his fingers in. My body was even more sensitive with all the hormones raging through my veins.

"Until I return next year? Impossible. In case you haven't noticed, I'm very good at getting you pregnant. As soon as you bleed again, I'll give you another baby. And then another, and another..." I had to choke back a moan to be able to reply.

"You'd have me pregnant until I'm forty-five?" Bjorn pulled back his fingers.

"Forty-five?"

"Well, yeah. It might take a bit longer after forty, but..."

"We have that much time left? That's at least fifteen years..."

"What did you think? I told you I'd be fertile longer than the women here."

"Yeah, but ten years longer? After 35 it's very rare." No wonder... One child in two years, Bjorn had thought to get to six in all, if he managed to rush things. Still, six children... I'd settle for three, maybe a fourth. And that was barring another set of twins.

"We have plenty of time, Bjorn. As I said way back when."

"We'll be fine," he said with a tiny chuckle. "We'll have no shortage of children, or love for them." If he thought this meant I would keep up a schedule of one pregnancy per two years, he was just as much out of his mind as Ragnar was. Just the thought of it... Ten pregnancies to go, with probably two or three of them being twins... I'd die of exhaustion long before I'd get to celebrate my 40th birthday.

"I'm not content being your breeding mare. I want to have more children, but it will be a joined decision each and every time."

"Of course, honey." I didn't buy it, but Bjorn was so good at distracting me with his fingers.

"Oh, fuck... I'm still... You're..." Every time I tried to hack into him, he started thrusting his fingers past my g-spot.

"Am I leaving you speechless?"

"Bj... I... Ahh... Fff... Uuu... Ck..."

"As you wish." He pulled up my leg and guided himself inside of me. It was half his cock at the most, but he hit all the spots that mattered.

Bjorn knew just how hard he could thrust before I would get uncomfortable. He was loving, and kind, and thoughtful, even during sex. One hand dug into my thigh, the other was buried in my hair as he came.

I felt his deep, warm breaths pass over my ear. He still held a longing to keep me close, and for a time we just lay there. His hands moved over my belly, as if to keep the child in there, to keep it safe. To keep us safe, all three of us.

"I love you so much, it hurts," Bjorn whispered after a while. "What would I ever do without you?" I didn't want to think about it.


	130. Don't Look Back In Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-04-804

Bjorn had been packing his things all morning, but I refused to help him after the nightmare I had. My dreams weren't visions as Aslaug's sometimes were, but it had been so realistic I was still freaked out hours after we had woken up. I could've sworn the blood was really dripping down my body.

"Where did you put my sleeping fur?" I kept silent. "Ragnhild, please. Where is it?" He opened a few chests until he found it.

"What will you do when you come back and our child is dead?" I asked, as if I'd been inquiring about the weather.

"Nothing will happen!" Bjorn threw the fur on top of his other stuff and stared at me. "You had a bad dream, that's all." The way the panic had crept up to my throat, almost choking me as I woke up, that wasn't a bad dream. It was a night terror.

"Our child died! It fell apart in my arms when I held it!" The boy had crumbled apart like soil, until only his wails filled my ears. When Bjorn woke me up, I realized it had been me who did the screaming.

I should have known I would have a rough night. Yesterday hadn't been easy either, and difficult emotional days always made me sleep fitful, at best. Some part of me wanted to crawl back underneath the furs, but Bjorn would be gone in an hour or so.

"Because you're afraid of the child dying! You don't have dreams about the future!" I turned to face the wall again. At least the baby was sleeping peacefully. "I have to get this to the ship. Thanks for the help." He took a minute to gather the stash he had collected and left me alone.

The dream had been so real. Our son had died, in my arms. I was drenched in blood, and my bump had been cut open. Everything I'd talked about with Bjorn last night seemed like a distant memory with these images in my mind. I had never been so convinced that a dream was real.  
Bjorn had calmed me down, but when he realized that me going back on my word was not part of the panic he had gotten angry. I knew he had every right to be, but this was about the life of our child. I would die for our boy, facing Bjorn's anger was just a small price to pay.

The door opened, but it was too soon for Bjorn to have made it back. Ubbe and Hvitserk came in, already dressed in sturdy clothes and furs. They needed to stay here, even more. Aslaug had tried to get me on her side with this, but as much as she begged and pleaded, I had refused to plead her case in public. I'd gone behind her back as she deserved, trying to get to Ragnar through his drug hazes. That had been just as useless as trying to get Bjorn to stay with me.

"Brother told us you weren't feeling well," Ubbe said in a soft voice. "Is it okay if we say goodbye?" As much as I tried to hide it, Ubbe had noticed something was up. He knew me, and he worried.

"Of course, come in." As I sat up they sat down on the bed, one on each side. "Are you excited?"

"I'll miss you..." Hvitserk leaned into me as he put a hand on my belly.

"Are you sure you won't just miss my stories?" He shook his head.

"Will you be okay? I mean, you won't have us around this time," Ubbe said. For some reason he still clung to the idea that Bjorn was worthless when it came to taking care of me while I was pregnant. He felt responsible, and any other day I would have thought his question adorable. But today I just wanted to avoid being pregnant, alltogether.

"I'll manage, I always do."

"I know you want brother to stay. Why?" I took a deep breath, not wanting to lie to them. I stroked his hair, wanly smiling as I realized his new haircut was the same as Bjorn's when we met.

"Because I'm afraid something will happen to the baby. Bjorn was there for the birth last time, and without him I wouldn't have made it."

"But mother said everything would be fine. And you'll be fine as well. Right?"

"I don't know. I just want Bjorn to be there when I give birth again. I know something will happen."

"Are you afraid you will lose it?" I brushed over Hvitserk's hair, wanting him to shut up. "The gods have already decided what will happen. There's no need to be scared." Unfortunately, this wasn't about Hvitserk's newfound fear of swimming. I had made sure to get him through that before he left, taking it one step at a time. Telling him the gods had already decided on his fate was the one thing that calmed him down enough so we could even try.

"And yet I am terrified," I admitted, refusing my tears the right to fall.

"Brother won't be able to do anything if he stays here, you know that."

"Ubbe," I said in a chiding voice. He should know better than to talk to me like that.

"What could he do? If you're afraid to give birth, you're just a coward." He had the same determined look in his eyes as Bjorn.

"Auntie's not a coward," Hvitserk muttered.

"She is, if she's that scared. Mother said so." Ever since I had found out just how much she had told Jozef about me the first time he was here, I had avoided her advice on anything at all, and it had made our relationship even more tense. Apparently, it had gotten to the point that she was telling the boys what she thought of me.

"Ubbe, please. You came here to say goodbye, not to start a fight." I wanted to calm him, but he slapped away my hand and got up.

"But you're scared."

"I'm scared of a lot of things. I'm scared of losing you, too."

"We know how to defend ourselves, otherwise father would never have let us come. We can stand in the shield wall." They were nowhere near ready. They wouldn't see battle up close at all, Bjorn would make sure of that. It was the one thing we agreed on, and what didn't need to be spoken out loud.

"I will always worry over you, because I love you."

"I love you, too," Hvitserk said, breaking the tension between me and Ubbe. I hugged Hvitserk, knowing I would miss him terribly. He was always able to make me smile with his jokes and sweet words. To him the world was crystal clear, and it was good to have a reminder of how simple life could be sometimes.

"Are you all packed?" I asked him, basking in his presence. His smile was contagious.

"Yes, it's already on the ship. Father got me my own shield." About time.

"Does it bear your father's colors? Then you're all set." I kissed him on his forehead with a smile, almost getting my teeth knocked out by his enthusiastic nodding. "And you?" I asked Ubbe.

"I love you, too," he sighed. He couldn't have said it any less convincing, but he still wrapped his arms around me. I pulled him close, holding onto him for dear life. If anyone was dumb enough to figure he could turn the tide of the battle by joining, it was Ubbe. His head was filled with the wonders of the gods, and he had no sense of how real death was, not yet.

"Gods, you're embarrassing me... Auntie, you're even worse than mother was."

"If you can't handle me saying goodbye, you're not ready for the field of battle. You'd better get going, the tide waits for no man. I expect to be hearing a lot of great tales from you when you get back."

"We'll bring you something nice." Ubbe let go of me and dragged Hvitserk behind him.

"We'll bring something for the baby as well!" I waved when Hvitserk put up his hand. As they closed the door behind them my face fell into sorrow once more.

They were way too young. Ragnar was making a mistake, and no one seemed to dare go against him on this. Even if they would make it back, things would never be the same. I had to make sure those boys were kept safe, even if it meant going against the king.

Bjorn came back without saying a word as he raided the shelves for food that would stay good for a while.

"The boys just came by," I said softly, afraid he would yell at me again.

"I know. I saw them."

"Ubbe called me a coward." Bjorn bit back a comment. "Do you agree with him?"

"Last night you told me you understood. One dream shouldn't be able to undo what we said and did."

"It's about more than the dream," I said to convince myself. "And now I'm telling you I'm not okay with that anymore."

"You can't expect me to stay back here because you're afraid."

"I'm not asking for the moon. I'm asking you to help me through a difficult time, and I need you here for that." He sighed, clearly not wanting to talk about this anymore. To him, the matter was already settled.

"You're asking for my pride, and my standing."

"And those are more important to you than our son?" His eyes flashed wide for the barest hint of a second.

"A... A son?"

"It's what I dreamed it would be last night. Are you starting to dream of our two sons learning how to fight together? Can you picture them raiding, and chasing after women? Because you need to stay here for that to happen."

"Don't speak as if you know that. You're not a Seeress." I had been right about his fantasies. Just like any Viking, the greatest pride Bjorn could take in anything was to have his sons fighting beside him. "What could I possibly say to you that will make you less afraid? It won't matter if I'm here or not, the gods have already decided what will happen." I couldn't believe it. Even now... I got up and blocked his way to the shelves for a second haul.

"Are you really that thick? I need you by my side for this! I can't -" My emotions were running so high I started heaving through my tears. Bjorn took hold of my hands, but I didn't want him to touch me. If he wouldn't be here for me in two moons, he'd have to get used to not being there to comfort me.

"Ragnhild, we talked about this. Use your words, not your anger." It only made me cry harder. My back hit the wall, and slowly I sank down to the floor. I couldn't handle this. I needed him, and he wanted to go off and kill Rollo. Revenge on his honor was more important than making sure his son would live. I needed to make sure he understood. Bjorn didn't know what I felt, and if he did...

"Something's wrong, Bjorn. Something terrible will happen, I just know it. I need you, please. You know me, I wouldn't ask if..." He sat down beside me, taking me in his arms.

"We've been over this a dozen times. I need to be in Paris. Don't make me choose between you and the kingdom." He had already decided. Every time he had chosen me, it had ended up in tears, and anger. Erlendur, my brother, all shining examples of how I'd led him astray. Bjorn didn't want to make that same mistake again. I knew why he had to go, but it didn't make it any easier for me.

"I told you what's bothering Ragnar."

"And I told you, he'd never do something like that." He gritted his teeth when he said it.

"Bjorn..." I looked up at him, seeing he didn't want to talk any longer. "If our son dies..."

"He won't. Stop talking like that, it's bad luck." He got up, fed up with my pleas. "All I asked for last night was to have us part without a fight, and this is what you give me." He only made me feel worse.

"I can't do this! Bjorn!" He was already out of the door. I let myself fall down on the kitchen floor, crying, sobbing as I held my arms around my bump. I hated him. He left me, leaving me to fend for myself. I couldn't possibly keep myself together, I couldn't just stay here and hope everything would go alright.

For a second I thought about going after him, jumping on board and going with. That way he'd be there for me, and he still could do whatever it was he needed to do for the kingdom. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to. I wouldn't let him get rid of me that easily.

I got up and got to work. I'd need sleeping furs, and a fresh set of clothes, and... I packed it all up in record time. By the time I headed out of the door, Bjorn couldn't have been gone for more than fifteen minutes. Hauling everything on my back, I made my way to the beach, waddling over as fast as I could. I saw Aslaug standing with Ivar and Sigurd, and they were already turning around.

I was too late.

They'd already left, and Bjorn and I had separated in anger. We hadn't even done our stupid ritual. I barely saw the boats from here, there were too many buildings blocking my view.

"If you die out there, I'll kill you," I whispered, hoping the gods would carry the words to Bjorn.

"Auntie?" Sigurd came up to me, looking at me in wonder. "Why are you carrying all that stuff?" Aslaug cast me a curious glance as well, no doubt figuring out I had meant to join at the last second.

"I decided to take your father up on his offer early," I lied. "I'll be staying with you until the baby is born." Sigurd's eyes went wide at that, happily taking over a bit of my luggage. With my sleeping furs piling up over his head he made his way to the hall.

"I thought you'd be more comfortable in your own bed," Aslaug said.

"I'm full of surprises," I sighed, and walked back with her to the hall.

"You missed the departure. Bjorn was very late. And you look like you've been crying."

"Can't I miss my husband already? You know I cry easily." She kept silent after that, realizing she wouldn't get me to talk about it.

After I settled in Sigurd went with me to gather the last things, and the twins. His eagerness to help me made me smile, but I couldn't stop looking at the spot on the floor I'd been crying on earlier. These next few moons would be hard. But at least I had one of the boys to keep me company, and take me with him in his world where everything was easy and simple, even his grief.

"Father promised me I could start fighting with a sword when he comes back, did you hear?" He looked up at me expectantly. I gasped a little, making his eyes twinkle.

"Really? I remember Ubbe only got to do that when he was older than you are now, you must be better than him when he was your age." He looked all kinds of smug at that. "I'm so proud of you, Sigurd." I kissed his forehead, knowing I would depend on him a great deal this summer. "Will you promise to teach my sons as well? I want them to learn from the best there is."

"I'll think about it," he said haughtily. "I might be too busy raiding..." He must have conquered the world twice over in his dreams. With Ragnar absent as well he had spent most of the winter over at our place, and it had done him good. Bjorn had been hesitant to have him move in with us for a while, but I couldn't deny how much Sigurd was blossoming just from being over all the time. It was enough to put my mind at ease, and Sigurd loved spending time with Bjorn most of all. Even then, just knowing Harbard would never come back had done wonders, and him coming around always got me and Bjorn to stop fighting over the child, at least for a little while.

"That's all I could hope for." Sigurd put his hand on my belly, feeling the child for himself.

"I had to make a promise," he said gravely, as if he was talking to me like an adult. "Ubbe and Hvitserk told me that I should take care of you, now that brother is away. They took care of you when the twins were still inside of you, and now they are gone they want me to make sure you sleep all the time, and you have to sit."

"Did they, now?" The boys were still very proud of having taken care of me while Bjorn was gone for the winter. And now it seemed to become a recurring theme.

"Yes, they said I had to be a man. I'll have to walk you home and make sure you don't let the house get messy."

"It won't get that messy when I'm not here all the time." He had to think on that, frowning as if I'd hurt his pride. "But I'm sure you'll take great care of me. Come on, let's get these last things up to the hall." It warmed my heart to see Sigurd so happy again.


	131. First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 07-05-804

Aslaug was incapable of comforting me, and my feelings of restlessness only grew. Helga managed to calm me down, but only if she would bring over Angrboda to play with the twins. With Bjorn gone I found myself going out to the Seer again, a lot. He wasn't too happy about it, though.

"Then tell me, princess of Kattegat. What would the gods have to gain from taking your child away from you?"

"What would they stand to lose if they don't?"

"Your insolence knows no bounds. Leave, I have no wish to fight you as if you were shouting at Ironside."

"But I need to know! What did Aslaug see? Why won't she tell me!" I almost reached out to touch him, I caught myself just in time.

"You're wearing my patience thin. I am not a book that holds all the answers. I am beholden to the gods, like you. Do not force me to reveal what I know." If I could strangle it out of him, I would. He was so old and frail, it would be over in a flash. "Get out, before you hurt yourself. Do not come back again if all you want to talk about is your child. The queen had a vision, you should go to her for answers." I licked his palm and got out of there. I was used to frustrating visits with the Seer, but none more than this. Ever since our conversation after Jozef died, he had been distant. Whatever he had told me about my brother must have angered the gods. Why else would he be this curt with me, almost rude?

He was right about one thing. I would need to drag the truth from Aslaug myself. I found her in the hall, presiding over some case. A foreigner stood in front of her, speaking in a thick accent.

"What's going on?" I asked Helga. She leaned in a bit, looking worried.

"He's accused of preaching about false gods." A Christian. If Aslaug presided over this, he was as good as dead. Since she had heard Harbard was a Christian all along, she had lost her patience with them, and it had been little enough since Athelstan had died.

"I will acknowledge your god exists," Aslaug said, her voice very theatrical. She was going to destroy that monk. "But our gods are greater still, their signs and wonders mightier."

"There is but one god, and He is mightiest of all. Let me save your mortal soul, I can teach you of His ways."

"Then surely you will want to prove his power." He was a dead man. Either he accepted and he would be mutilated by whatever Aslaug thought was funny, or he could back out and be hanged for a coward immediately.

"I accept. You'll see, God is with me. He moves through all of us, and you as well." Two arrogant and stubborn people, in such a skewed power play... It was too painful to watch.

The monk was taken away, followed by townsfolk who were happy to see him being dragged off to a cell. I approached Aslaug, hoping to catch her attention.

"Ragnhild, how was your visit with the Seer?" she asked.

"Uneventful. He refuses to answer me." She shrugged, as if to tell me she knew that would happen. "Aslaug, I beg of you. Tell me what you saw. You kept it hidden from me that I was carrying twins, and it did little to protect me. Just tell me what to expect."

"There is nothing to worry about. You don't need protection, or an answer. You will be fine."

"Will my child be as well?"

"You have nothing to worry about. Trust me." That was the one thing I was losing of late. She refused to talk to me, about any of it. She didn't try and convince me the vision had been of anything different, or that she saw all would be fine.

"You are doing nothing to calm me. I will not let go of this, you hear me? I need to know. Aslaug…" She turned around as she felt my hand on her arm.

"I can't do anything right in your eyes, can I? You always judge me, you always need more. Keep your insecurities to yourself, you're making a spectacle of yourself." Where was this coming from? I hadn't asked her for anything but the occasional babysitting when Bjorn and I were both out, and I had taken over care for the boys more than I had asked for help. Where was this coming from? Why was she this upset with me?

"What are you talking about? Aslaug, what do you think I did?" I knew I was mostly concerned with her vision these days, but that… It didn't make me a bitch like she made me sound. Were there things I had been missing?

"You're supposed to know everything," she bit. "Go figure it out." She stormed off, leaving Helga to comfort me.

"Come, let's go home. I'll make you some tea." With her arm across my back she guided me home. She got me some soothing chamomile. I was still frantically trying to figure out what Aslaug could have meant, but I fell short every time I came up with a new explanation. "You said something about finding a part of your destiny, last we spoke. How's that going?" I looked up, my angst over Aslaug's comment falling away.

"I tried some things, but it all just doesn't feel right. I've been brushing up on my languages again, there's all kinds of traders coming in from the west."

"No wonder you spent so much time at the markets lately. I was wondering what on Midgard you could be searching for." News on how the raid in Paris was going, mostly, but only few people came from that far south. The other news was mostly stale, with everyone gone raiding little of interest came in that I didn't already know.

"It's a great opportunity to learn all kinds of things, really. They teach me some words, I get to practice speaking it, and in exchange I point them to who has the best furs, or herbs, or whatever they hope to find here."

"I saw this stall yesterday that had the most peculiar dried flowers. They were purple, can you believe it?"

"Oh, is Birgritta in? She must have gotten her hands on some lavender, that's good to know. I've been running low on a few things. I'll drop by this afternoon, some friendly faces will do me some good." Helga spun her mug around in her hands.

"Can I ask... Why are you so certain Aslaug had a vision about your child?"

"I... It's just all these small things. She had the vision when she looked at me. She refuses to tell me what she saw, or that it's not about the child. She's been acting strange ever since she found out I'm with child again."

"You mean, since her lover died, who tried to accuse you of some ungodly crime before he was struck down by the gods." I was loath to get into that.

"Auntie!" I could hear Sigurd before he even entered the house. "Auntie! Auntie!"

"Sigurd?" I got up, his arms clutching to my legs. "What is it?"

"Ivar killed someone!" I must have misheard, but Sigurd was too upset to tell me more.

"Oh, my sweet boy... Have some tea, come sit. It must have been horrible to see." I sat down and held him in my arms, letting him cry his little heart out. "What happened?" I asked after he calmed down a bit.

"He was playing with us, and then Sweig tried to pull the ball from his hands, and Ivar wouldn't let go, and then he swung his axe around and it got stuck in Sweig's skull..." Sigurd was more shocked than he was sad. Sweig had a tendency to play mean and dirty, often leading to small injuries I'd have to take care of. But this...

"Is someone taking care of Sweig? And what about Ivar?"

"Mother came outside to check on Ivar, and Sweig's mother was there as well. Mother said he was dead..." Ivar? He was barely three years old. He was a toddler, Sweig was easily double his age.

"Oh, my sweet boy... Everything will be alright, you hear me? Your mother will take care of this, I'm so sorry you had to see this happen."

"Mother said Ivar just wanted to play... But then Sweig's mother started screaming and I saw the blood, and then I came here..."

"You never saw someone die before, did you?" He shook his head at Helga as he slurped at his tea.

"Before I came here I had never seen anything die, can you believe that? The first time was when a goat was sacrificed, and I was so shocked I had to cry. You were just a tiny baby back then."

"She still cries over the goats," Helga said with a wink. "The first time I saw someone die was my mother. She died in childbirth, but my sister survived. It was horrible to lose someone so close to me, but I learned how to take care of a baby very early." I hadn't known that.

"How old were you?" I asked.

"About Sigurd's age. It's why I've never wanted a child of my own for a while, I'd had enough of babies for a long time. I did learn how to deliver babies because of it. I didn't want anyone else to lose their mother because of bad midwives, like I had." I stroked Sigurd over his head, seeing he was a bit calmer already. Us staying calm the way we did, talking of death so easily, it told him it wasn't that big of a deal to begin with. I didn't want to pass on that message, but I didn't know how else to react. I was still reeling from the news myself.

"I didn't like him," Sigurd said. "He told me you were a coward."

"Well, it doesn't matter what he said, or what anyone else says. I know I'm not a coward." Still, I shot Helga a worried look. The rumors were supposed to be taken care of, not exaggerated to the point the children took over their parents' opinion. I'd have to figure out how to dispel those rumors, and fast. This must have been what Aslaug was talking about earlier.

"What's going to happen now?" Sigurd looked up at me, expecting me to have all the answers.

"Well, I'm not sure since I wasn't there. Your mother won't be able to judge the case herself, and we can't exactly arrest Ivar. I suppose the Lawgiver will have to judge over this, when he's back in town."

"So Ivar could die?"

"Oh, no, of course not! He doesn't have an arm ring yet, he can't be held accountable for what he does," I said. That fell to Aslaug, in this case. Woe to the man who had to tell her she did something wrong in raising Ivar...

"There's a fine for these kinds of things," Helga added. "It's just an issue of how much it will be. It happens more than you think, your big brother had to pay one last summer. Remember Torvi?" Sigurd let out a deep sigh. He was handling all of this better than I'd thought. Bjorn would have been proud of me for not coddling him again, but it still made me feel strange. Telling a boy his age that killing another child wasn't that bad...

"Are you feeling better?" I asked. Sigurd nodded, slurped some more of his tea, then gently put his head on my belly.

"Why did that boy call Ragnhild a coward?" Helga asked.

"Because she's always crying. I know she's not a coward, but I don't like it when other people say that she is." I exchanged a glance with Helga, who didn't have to tell me out loud I had to get it together.

"Not everyone is used to seeing me cry. I'm just really worried about the child."

"Is that why you fight with mother all the time? She knows, doesn't she?" Somewhere in between, Sigurd had started to pick up on some things. I had been rather careless with my outbursts, but this... I hadn't wanted him to hear anything about this. Sigurd had enough problems to deal with. I needed to be strong for him.

"I just want my child to be safe from harm, just like you." He let me pull him close.

"I can't wait to get started on training with a sword just like brother, they have to be back soon." If only... By now they had barely made it to Paris, barring any complications. With Rollo leading the defenses, it might just take a while for them to even get to the city.

"Not until after the baby is born," I sighed. "I'll need you to help me for a little while longer. Are you up for that?" He nodded his head against my shoulder.

"Ubbe made me pinky promise, so I have to." Helga gave me an amused smile. She thought the idea of those easy to keep promises to practice with was adorable, especially as she heard the boys whisper about them when they thought no one was listening. "Will Ivar go to jail? Harbard was put in jail, he did a bad thing as well."

"No, he'll stay with us in the hall. He's too young to go to jail, he still needs his mother." He grew a little sullen again.

"But I need mother as well..."

"Oh, I know sweetie. I know." I let out a deep sigh as I held him just a little closer. I could only imagine how Aslaug must have been concerned with Ivar now, but not bothering to check up on Sigurd... I could understand it, very well, but it did mean Sigurd was left to fend for himself yet again.


	132. The Lawgiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-05-804

Frida looked down at me, furious with my response. Her face had turned red, while her fingers were white from squeezing the back of the seat she had just been sitting in.

"What do you mean, you won't help me?"

"I told you, I can't. I know I have helped others with their legal cases, but I cannot help you. I am too closely tied to Ivar myself, I can't possibly speak for you and your son. I truly am sorry -"

"And what will that buy me? My son died at the hands of a cripple. What will I tell my daughter?"

"Frida, calm down. We have a Lawgiver for these cases, just for this reason. Would you not rather have the decision be final? If I involve myself, Ragnar might overturn the verdict when he gets back. And you need closure."

"Don't tell me what I need. You've not lost a son, you have no idea just what it is to lose a child."

"You're right." It took the anger out of her, I could see confusion take over. "I have not lost a son, or a daughter, but I do know the law. And I know feelings. The gods will judge on the case, no mortal could hope to do you justice. Sweig -"

"Do not speak his name," she hissed, fury building up quickly again. "You have no right to say his name, or carry his memory. I hope your child will die." The woman ran off, slamming the door closed behind her.  
How could she say that... I'd not wish the loss of a child upon my worst enemies. My little cabbage...

"Don't listen to her." My hand stroked across my growing bump. "You are very much wanted. She spoke out of anger, and sorrow. I would give my life to keep you safe." Frida had been so angry with me, I feared just what she might do. I knew she liked Vinh, and they often ate together with the men gone. I hadn't failed to notice Vinh was very much the center of gossip, and it was her that kept the rumor mill turning.

I took a moment to collect myself. With a cup of tea in my hands the world always seemed easier to understand. Frida was still grieving over her son, and she had spoken in anger. It wasn't personal, it was painful. There was nothing I could have done to make her agree with my decision, though it was the ony one I could make.

My mind wandered to Bjorn. He'd be in Francia now, probably going over the final things before he could attack the city again. Perhaps they were already done, and just the sight of the siege weapons had been enough to force Paris to pay tribute. Then he could already be on his way back, and he would be back in time for the birth. He'd not want to hit other cities, with Ragnar being in that fragile state between addiction and dependency.

He would have faced Rollo by now. Ragnar would blood-eagle him, there was no doubt in my mind. This had been his third betrayal, and there was no coming back from that. Even Ragnar had his limits.

"Ragnhild?" The door opened before I could respond. Only a few people were granted that courtesy, and the one who entered was not one of them. They would just come in, and I would recognize them by their voice. This wasn't family, or a close friend.

"Lawgiver," I said, more than a little surprised. "To what do I owe this visit?" Pissed as I was for him barging in, pissing him off while he still had to rule on Ivar's case was just bat-shit crazy. He sat down, pulling a hand through his bleached hair. At the least he had gotten rid of the lice that he had caught, the only remedy that didn't involve shaving it all off was a concoction that effectively made your hair blond. I didn't want to have Helga washing everything in sight to get rid of the buggers.

"I have come to ask you for advice." Lawgivers never asked for advice, not when he could speak to the gods, and for the gods.

"What about?"

"Ivar, of course. What would be done in such a case, in the lands where you come from? I find our own laws lacking in answers. How would others judge over this case?"

"That's a difficult question to answer. You must understand, there were more options than three. But I suppose..." Death was not an option here, nor was banishing the boy. That left wergeld, and I couldn't see how that was not a viable option in his mind.

"Yes?"

"Where Ivar is concerned, he would have lived. He is too young to fully understand what he did and what it caused. There would be an investigation into his family, to determine if he is being raised right. He could be taken away from his mother and placed in a different home, or town."

"You would banish a child?" The Lawgiver had the wrong idea.

"No, anything but. The Thing would decide on a better family for the boy, preferably in the same town, and make sure he can still grow up to be a fine adult. The important thing here, where it all revolves around, is if there is a chance that this might happen again. Do you think it was an accident? Or was there an intent to hurt, maim, or kill?"

"That's an interesting question, though I find it hard to believe Ivar will never swing an axe again."

"That's different. That's in training, and in battle. That's not one of our own over a ball."

"You have seen it happen?"

"I heard from Sigurd, he saw. He came here after it happened."

"Then surely you have heard Sigurd speak in Ivar's defense. They are brothers, after all."

"You'd never hear me speak well of my brother anytime soon," I snapped. "In any case, Sigurd was shocked. He told me how Sweig tried to get the ball from Ivar's hands, and then Ivar swung his axe when Sweig wouldn't let go."

"That I find hard to believe. How could a child like Ivar ever hold his own against a child that much older?"

"Ivar has had to do everything with his arms. They're stronger than many a child's legs."

"Hmm..."

"I have to stress, I feel uncomfortable talking about this. I have known the boy since birth, I was prepared to take care of him by myself from the start."

"Yes, I heard. It was foolish, and brave at the same time. I imagine the gods have deemed it bravery, as the boy has lived until now, and your own children have been born healthy as well. Still, there is one thing I hope you will answer for me." I really didn't want to speak on the case any more. First Frida had been angry with me, and now he...

"I won't know if I can or will answer unless you ask the question."

"How would you rule over this case?" I leaned back with a sigh.

"I am not the Lawgiver, you are."

"You speak with the gods, same as me." They must have lost my cell number then. I had only seen Freyja once, and that had only been a split second. It might have been a figment of my imagination, as far as I knew.

"Not on law, or justice. Let me answer your question with one of my own. What do you hope to get from me?" He got a glint in his eyes as he leaned forward a bit.

"I knew you would understand. There is something I need from you, in fact. I think we may be able to help each other out." He let a tentative pause fall, sizing me up. Either way this would be interesting.

"Go on."

"There's been some rumors as to your... Fidelity."

"I am well aware, yes. What does it have to do with Ivar's case?" I needed him to spell it out for me. This could still go either way. Was he trying to bribe me somehow, or had he come up with a plan to help solve my problem?

"Frida wants me to rule in her favor. She is looking for Ivar's death." This went beyond a bribe. I had to tread carefully, no matter what he wanted from me.

"I can imagine she misses her son." The Lawgiver sat back, sensing my reluctance.

"You can understand, however, how the queen would respond to such a verdict." She would have Frida killed for the mere suggestion. Frida had put the man in between them, and he was stuck. "So I find myself unable to come to a verdict that will placate both parties."

"Yes, I can see your troubles. It's been some time since Sweig's untimely death, I had hoped Frida would have calmed down a bit."

"Her anger is only growing as the days go by." He seemed relieved. He hadn't wanted to bribe me, he wanted to ask for a favor. "There's only one way to satisfy both parties, as far as I can tell."

"Which is?" He sat up straight, trying his best to look authoritative.

"Ivar has to die. I need your help to convince the queen. She will have time on her hands for her other children that way, and both parties will prosper."

"You can't be serious. You expect me to accept that your judgement is not from the gods but made out of fear? You think I'll sacrifice a child to get you out of a tight spot? Because that is what I'm hearing. And I can assure you, seeking Ivar's death will not satisfy Aslaug in any way."

"I expect you to realize just what will happen if Frida is not satisfied with the ruling."

"She'll curse, and shout, and move away if need be."

"She'll kill the boy herself, and make sure it hurts." I sat up straight, trying to imagine Frida killing a child.

"Has she threatened Ivar?"

"She's gone no further than to imply it. Still, I worry. You have seen her rage for yourself." This was ridiculous. The Lawgiver was about to bend to the will of one woman, and not think on the case to decipher what the gods would want to happen. Not that I knew any better, but I couldn't see how killing a child would bring justice to Frida. It had been an accident, of that I was sure. Ivar was a victim of circumstance, he wasn't a cruel, heartless killer. He should never have had the axe in the first place, and Sweig shouldn't have bullied the other children.

"Are you not the Lawgiver? Do you not speak to the gods, and are you not above reproach?"

"Ivar will die. It is my job to make sure this is handled in a way the town benefits." I could see how that made sense to him, but this wasn't one of the times where this kind of Lawmaking was beneficial to anyone.

"And you think that if Frida kills Ivar, it will unleash a string of revenge killings?"

"I have seen it happen before. I have heard the tales, and did Odin not offer Skadi what she wanted to prevent the same? Did she not get to choose a husband, instead of having her revenge?"

"Did Angrboda get anything for the abduction of her children? Did she not come with a similar ask, and was she not killed on sight?"

"Are you suggesting we kill Frida?" He stood up, visibly shaken, and angry.

"I am suggesting the gods have a choice, as do you. Why follow one story and not the other?"

"I have made my decision! I am not asking for your help on that, I am asking for your help making sure it will all happen as the gods will it!" No wonder he was so careful on broaching the subject. He wasn't here for my blessing, he wanted me to make sure Aslaug wouldn't freak out. He couldn't have picked a worse person to ask, as we were constantly fighting. She would want to kill me just for suggesting it... And not the Lawgiver.

"You're playing a dangerous game," I noted, falling back to my calm.

"I'm playing a very smart game. You need those rumors to stop. I can tell you where they came from." That was useless to me, I needed them to end, and no one but me would be able to do that. I would need to make sure I was above reproach where this was concerned.

"I know where they came from. I know where and when it started, and who is behind them now." He leaned forward, as if to challenge my words to combat.

"Then why not end them? Or are you afraid to move against the gods? Is it true you sang of love to that traitor? Have you taken that wanderer into your bed? Why do you not deny carrying Erlendur's child?" That was just disgusting. This went beyond a mere rumor, Vinh would pay dearly for this.

"I have never slept with anyone but my husband, not since I came to Norway. There is no reason for anyone to assume differently, and I will not have you hold it over my head to help me kill a prince of Kattegat, just to make life easier for you. You are the Lawgiver, you should trust the gods to keep you safe from any retribution. How dare you ask me such questions? How dare you try and manipulate me like this?"

"We'll have to take your word for it, then..." This was ridiculous. He meant to blackmail me after all, now that his favor was denied. I would not negotiate with terrorists like that, it would only come back to bite me in the ass again.

"Get out." He stood up haughtily, taking his sweet time gathering his things.

"You should know, the judgement still stands. You could have gained something from it."

"We'll see what it brings you, to try and use your power to manipulate the town." He leered at me, knowing I was threatening him, now. He had taken a huge risk in talking to me so freely, and his gamble hadn't paid off. "Just what made you think I would agree to such a plan?"

"I have my own ways of just knowing things. There is no reason for me to reveal what I know to the likes of you." He left the house, leaving me to go over it all. Ivar was about to die. Someone had told the Lawgiver I could be convinced of helping him in exchange for help with the rumors. Those came from Vinh, but I felt like it was too elaborate a plan for her to think of on her own. It just might be something he came up with on his own, or perhaps even with the help of Frida.

At any rate, I would have some things to handle before I would give birth. Kattegat was not as big a fan of me as I would like to, though I couldn't see why. Most of them had come by for advice at one point or another, I had embraced the gods, and was now married to Bjorn. The only one openly against me was Vinh, and that enmity came from both sides. Although Aslaug and I had some disagreements as well, I found it hard to believe she would hurt me like that. Not with Ivar's life on the line...  
  
I'd have to tell her, about Ivar. She would only hate me more if she ever found out I knew, I had no doubt the Lawgiver would see to that. Which meant I was going to talk to her about it anyway, as he had wanted. Even now I was to do as he said.

Whatever was behind it, I'd better get it over with. After a calming cup of tea I got up and left for the hall, dreading the conversation I was to have.

"Aslaug? Are you in?"

"In the back! I'm a little busy..."

"I'm sure you'll want to hear this."

"Oh, just - just give me a second, I'll be right there..." I waited in front of the curtains, curious as to what she could be doing that she didn't want me to see. I half expected a man to disappear through the back, but I didn't want to assume she was already finding a replacement for my brother.

"Ragnhild, come in." Aslaug was sitting on her bed, Ivar in her arms. That was not a good start. "You don't look like you want to ask about the usual again."

"That's because I am troubled with something bigger. Aslaug... I'm not sure how to tell you. I just want you to hear it as soon as you can, and not get blindsided later. I just got a visit from the Lawgiver." She got nervous. Very, very nervous, clinging onto Ivar to a point I feared for his breathing.

"Why would he come by?"

"He had a proposal, which I refused. He wanted me to talk to you, in exchange for help with the rumors that are going round."

"Then why are you here talking to me?"

"Because I am on your side on this. He wanted me to tell you to accept his judgement, but I have come to tell you that I do not agree, and that I want to help you however I can." My hand found Ivar's head. He looked up at my touch. The white of his eyes was exceptionally blue today. Ever since Jozef had taken away most of his pain Ivar was more willing to interact with the world around him, and his autistic habits started to fall away. I couldn't imagine how bad it must have been, to hurt all day, every day, to the point it was easiest to close off to the world around.

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me... He thinks Ivar deserves to die." I didn't dare look at her. I kept my eyes on Ivar, holding his hand carefully in my fingers. He squeezed them hard, reminding me just how strong he was for his age. But he didn't look like a killer, or a psychopath. He was just a boy, listening as his mother and auntie had a conversation he didn't fully understand. I wondered if he even knew he was in trouble.

"That can't be. Ivar's but a child, there's just the wergeld. This goes against all the laws of men and the gods."

"I know. The Lawgiver thinks Frida will not accept it. He heard talk of her planning blood revenge if his life is not offered in return."

"Then why... He means to placate her?"

"She's only grown more certain of her hate, she even went as far as to wish my son would die... He wanted me to convince you to accept it. But I turned him down. He tried to bribe me into supporting his decision, he all but laughed at me when I told him he should trust in the gods."

"He's afraid Frida will start a blood feud. Over an accident?"

"I know, it's ridiculous. If there's any way to keep him from speaking his judgement, I will do whatever I can. I care for Ivar, you know that. I know what it is to love your child more than you love yourself." My hand found the bump again.

"Him trying to gain favor from you will do nicely. You can put him on trial for what he tried to have you do." I wasn't looking forward to that.

"That would be my word against his. He is well-respected, whereas I am tainted by the rumors. He told me some people think Erlendur is the father." To her credit, Aslaug snorted.

"That is just ridiculous. Is that really going around?" I had been right, Aslaug was not involved in spreading the rumors. This went too far, even for her.

"That's what he said. I don't mean to ever repeat it. I think Vinh may be behind it, with her passionate hate for me."

"Then what can we do? When he stands on the Law Rock, his word is equal to that of a god. Ragnhild, we can't just let Ivar die!"

"I know. We have some time to think of something, we'll just need to stall until then. You're not alone in this, I want to take him down just as badly as you. Who knows what will happen when word gets out how he has strayed from his calling." All of his judgements would be called into question, ripping open wounds throughout the kingdom.

"And for how long will you be able to help me come up with something?" Her eyes drifted down as well.

"Not that long," I sighed. "To tell you the truth, I'm approaching my due date." I was overcome with preemptive grief again, forcing me to grit my teeth to keep from begging her. This visit was about Ivar, I needed to show Aslaug I was capable of separating these kinds of things.

When I looked up at her, my hand over my child, Aslaug's eyes spoke of remorse. I got up and left, not wanting to yell at her. It were these moments that made me certain she was hiding something, that made me want to gouge out her eyes for not wanting to tell me what would happen.


	133. The Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04-06-804

As the birth drew near, each day felt like a century. I got up, and started crying as I realized I was pregnant. I put on a dress, and cried some more as I thought of all the horrible things that could happen. Then, at breakfast, I'd break down as I thought of Bjorn, and how we had said goodbye.

The gods would never let him die because we didn't do our stupid ritual, but not having done it made me feel like a horrible person. I should have supported him, I should have been there for him, but I only managed to think of myself. Even now I was a blubbering, weepy pile of hormones and fat.

The worst part was not knowing what would happen to the child. Aslaug still refused to speak on the subject. Helga had tried to talk to her for me, even Sigurd had opened his mouth in my defense, but it had been in vain.

"Just stay calm," she said each time, "you have nothing to fear." It only made me hate her more. After all she had done in the last few years, to me, and to Sigurd, I wanted nothing more than to have her gone from my life. But she was the queen, and she hated me. I couldn't force her to do anything, and ever since I had told her that her lover had been a Christian she had resented me for even having a brother. And worst of all, we were now forced to work together over Ivar's trial. We still hadn't come up with a way to stop the Lawgiver other than kill him, but that wasn't something we were capable of without anyone finding out.

The only thing that kept me going was having to take care of the twins. They were growing fast, and had no trouble walking hand in hand, going off to wherever their tiny feet could take them as they balanced each other out. And now, with the birth looming closer, I needed to bite the bullet. I could give birth any day, and there were still things I needed to go over with Aslaug. The birth made me want to scratch her eyes out, but for the sake of Ivar I had tried to keep the peace between us. With each passing day it had only grown worse.

"Aslaug?" Already I had trouble keeping my voice from shaking.

"Come to grovel again?" She stared daggers at me as I approached. She was dressing Ivar, putting on pants. It was a delicate operation, but she always did it with love to spare.

"I was wondering, about the birth..."

"You'll do it here, as befits your station." To her, the discussion was over. She wanted to leave, but Ivar still needed a shirt. I still needed confirmation.

"Without Vinh." I planted my feet firmly on the ground, taking a deep breath. The easy part was over now.

"As if she would even want to be around you, when you have a reason to yell at her. Is that all?"

"You know what I need you to swear," I said in a confident voice. Aslaug looked up, saw I meant it. She puffed up her chest as she stood up straight, ready to fight back.

"No. I won't indulge you in your silly elf tale. I won't let you act the martyr you think you are."

"It's not about being a martyr. You've seen what a mess I am just from you not telling me what will go wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong," she said through gritted teeth. I wasn't the only one who was tired of having the same fight over and over.

"Then you should have no trouble making that kind of promise." It was my turn to stare her down, now.

"Why make an oath if it's not going to be relevant either way?" Something would happen, I just knew it. I just needed to know what it was, maybe I would be able to do something about it. Aslaug tried to walk away, but I put a hand on her arm.

"Is it truly that bad? Will you not let me down gently?" My voice cracked, as did my confidence. Had I not cried so much before I came up to her, I would have done so now.

"Nothing will happen!" She jerked back her arm, her face scowling at the mere insolence of me asking her a question. Something would happen, and she knew what it was. Aslaug was being childish in her refusal to tell me, I could handle it. Maybe I could prevent it.

"Tell me! Damn you to Helheim, I have a right to know!"

"Good luck finding people who will help you. Get out of my sight." I didn't want to do as she said, no matter how badly I wanted to be alone.

"I won't let you kill my child, just like you won't let anyone harm Ivar. How can you not understand how I feel? I will find a way to do this my way."

"I'd love to see you try. Go on then, go door to door and ask them what you want me to promise. You'll end up giving birth alone, in the forest. No one will help you with your foolish plan, as I said the last time."  
  
"Last time you actually thought about it for a second."

"Last time I wasn't sure you meant it." Then perhaps giving birth in the forest was my best option, after all. I could do without the rituals and sacrifices. I'd just hide away somewhere and come back with the child. I knew what to look out for, and what to prevent.

I could make up a lie about being caught off guard by the contractions, and then, when it was indeed going as badly as I assumed it would, I would just return to the edge of town, wait until someone saw me and slit my wrists. That way, there was no other option than to save the child. My little cabbage would live, I would cheat the fates.

"Ragnhild? Bjorn warned me about that look. What are you planning?" It didn't concern her for one bit. I turned on my heel and headed home, not saying another word. "Ragnhild!"

I knew how to pack light. I'd hide my bag with supplies at home, then steal off at night. I just had to make sure I wouldn't have to be gone for too long.

"Ragnhild!" She didn't come after me. She could've gained on me by now, but I made it out of the door without so much as a finger on me. I even made it home. Aslaug was terrible at keeping me back. She'd never be able to catch me once I had made it out into the woods. Tonight I'd run for it.

"I'll keep you safe," I told my belly. "Nothing will happen to you, my little cabbage. You just keep growing a bit more, and I'll make sure you can live a long, healthy life. You're almost ready to come out. Just keep inside of me for a few more hours." I stuffed my bag with cloth and a clean dress, and my knives. I'd make this work. I could manage. I'd present Bjorn with his son, and I would scold him for making me have to do this in the first place.

"Auntie? Why is the door locked?" Shit. I hid the bag under my sleeping furs and soft as I could, I removed the lock from the door.

I swung it open, looking down surprised.

"I think it was just a bit stuck, Sigurd. Would you like some tea?"

"Mother sent me. She wants to know if you'll be eating with us tonight." There was a hopeful glimmer in his eyes that I couldn't deny. Aslaug had sent him over to spy on me, no doubt, not that Sigurd knew. If I said no, she would come by with at least two strong men by her side.

"Of course, I'd love to." I'd get out of town after dinner. If I left in the dark, they wouldn't know I was missing until morning.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"Am I?"

"You're... Happy. You weren't happy this morning, or yesterday, or the day before that."

"It's just nice to be surrounded by my own things again for a bit. It's just not the same, sleeping in the hall. I like being surrounded by my own things, even though Helga spends the nights here, now." I'd have to bring the bag to the hall, Helga was sure to find it. One look inside and she would know what was up.

"Okay..." He frowned as he left again. I watched him go, then closed the door again. I had to finish packing, and get everything ready for when the baby would be here. Swaddling, I needed some of that with me as well. And a bed roll, for the nights, and a tinderbox, and whatever dried food I had lying around. I could sneak some out after dinner tonight, they wouldn't notice until it was already too late.

In all, I would probably have to make the trip twice. There was too much for me to carry by myself. I'd have more luck going over to Floki's, but that would be the first place they would come looking for me. The hunting cabin second, and third the farm house. Not that I would be able to get there, as riding was impossible at this stage of my pregnancy.

A moment of clarity came to me. I would need to tough it out for a few days. Just the bare necessities. Knives, cloak, cloth, food and drink. I couldn't risk being late for dinner, or having someone snoop around to find all of my stuff out. Just the bag, everyone knew I always had it with me, and one of Bjorn's cloaks. I could say it was to have something of his with me for during the birth, no one would bat an eye. Yes, this was it. I could do this, I had everything covered. I just had to get through dinner first...

With my heart beating in my throat I went to the hall. Just a little while longer. Just a big hug for Sigurd, and a thankful nod towards the servant who put a plate in front of me. There was nothing to worry about. Just a few bites, and a sip of water, then more bites. A chuckle over Sigurd telling me about his training. A worried look over Ivar wanting to 'twain' as well. Avoiding Aslaug's eyes, all the while taking little bites. There was no reason to worry, at all. A compliment over the food, just a little longer. I'd be away in a bit, to make sure my son would live. Then I could give in to the soft cramps in my belly. Just a bit more. A friendly smile, not a pained look of discomfort. At the least I wouldn't have to be out there for long, I just needed to get far enough away from town.

"Ragnhild? I wanted to apologize for what I said this afternoon." This was new... "I spoke some harsh words, and I shouldn't have. Will you forgive me?" Dinner was taking a strange turn, with Aslaug apologizing for anything at all. Even Helga seemed surprised, she'd sat through plenty of awkward dinners by now.

"Err... Sure. I'm a little confused I have to say, normally we go at it a bit more fierce and we just drop it."

"Well, that's no way to live. We need to work together, for a multitude of reasons." The kingdom had never felt more like a family business. Even though she was my step-mother-in-law, I had little faith I could ever work together well with her again. But saying that out loud here in front of other people was a bad idea.

She had breached my trust one too many times, and was incapable of understanding that just because things didn't go her way, that didn't mean they were happening wrong. I was more of an out of the box thinker, relying on logic and knowing how people worked, where she kept to her own moral code to the point she thought it equal to the law. In a way she was the law, but a little flexibility went a long way in keeping everyone happy, or at least keep them from bearing a grudge.

"Auntie?" Sigurd put his hand on my belly, sensing something was wrong. "Why are you making a fist like that?"

"I knew it," Aslaug hissed as she put down the spoon she held in front of Ivar. "You were really thinking of doing this alone?"

"What's happening?"

"Nothing's happening, Sigurd. I'm fine, nothing is going on. I'm not sure what your mother is talking about."

"Ragnhild..." Helga was worried, and I felt bad for not being able to ease her mind.

"You're planning on going to the forest. You daft bint." Aslaug rose to her feet and put her hands on the table, looking ready to spit fire.

"Can I come, too?" I kissed Sigurd on his head and slid a hand through his hair, my hand a bit shaky from the cramps.

"Ragnhild!"

"I've been cleaning up at home, and got sidetracked with a lot of memories. I think your mother is a bit confused because I pulled out a lot of traveling gear." Helga wanted to make a comment, but Aslaug beat her to the punch.

"Don't you lie to me." I stared at Aslaug, not wanting to back down first. Then, I let out a tired sigh and got up.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Helga asked.

"I'm tired, I'll be in bed." I could hear Aslaug's brain explode as I went to the back instead of the front doors. My smirk turned into a scowl as I felt the cramping getting worse. I had to pull through. Just until dark, then I would be able to get out. My son, my beautiful little cabbage. He would make it. I would die before anything happened to him.

I curled into a ball as I lay in bed, praying to the gods my water wouldn't break. I had to get out of town, and fast, but there were too many servants still running around. No one could see me. No one could know.  
  
My little cabbage... With Bjorn gone, I could pick a name by myself. I'd have to wait for nine days again, but they would just fly by with him in my arms. I was certain of that. He would live, even if it meant giving up my own.

The cramps were coming closer after another, moving fast and hard. I had to grit my teeth to keep silent, even more so as I heard footsteps approach.

"Are you awake?" It was Helga. "Ragnhild?"

"What is it?"

"Aslaug has this crazy idea in her head that you plan on running off." I chuckled awkwardly.

"You know how crazy she can be." My breathing became very controlled as another cramp hit. I cursed the gods for bringing me to this longitude, dark came too late for my taste this time of year.

"And I know you can be very determined. You can't be serious. You need to give your child the best chance it can possibly have, and that's here with me. You know I will do my best to help you, and your child. I'm the best chance you have." She was right. Gods be damned, that woman was right and I was a fool. Something would be off, and I wouldn't be able to do anything by myself. I needed her, and her skills. I couldn't do shit when I was incapacitated with pain and contractions, already it was difficult to keep a straight face.

"Helga..."

"It's okay. I know you're scared. I'll do everything I can, you know that."

"It's started," I winced, finally letting out a grunt. "I'm so scared, promise me you'll stay by my side."

"I won't let anything happen to you."

"I'm not afraid of dying, I'm afraid of Aslaug. She -" I screamed. Not wanting to go out to the woods anymore, I could let it all out. "She'll kill my child..." She had to understand.

"Ragnhild is in labor! Come quickly!" Helga bent over and whispered in my ear. "I'll keep her away. She won't touch you." Her promise made me feel secure. Helga would protect my child. I had to, she was the only one that could keep my child safe if push came to shove.

"Don't let her decide for me," I whimpered, hearing footsteps hurrying our way. "I'm certain this is what I want. Helga, don't let anyone touch my child. I'd rather die."

I was helped up by the servants, who carefully guided me towards the birthing room. The cloths and furs had already been laid out, since it was abundantly clear I would give birth any day.

"Good luck auntie! The baby will make you happy again, I just know it!" Sigurd was sent to bed before I could respond to his kind words.

"The second time is always easier than the first," Helga promised. "Let's see what we're dealing with, here." I felt her hands lift up my skirts, then enter. They were a bit cold.

"Why the surprised look?" I asked.

"You're almost there. I thought you might need a few hours..." Her confusion turned to efficiency in the blink of an eye. "You, get the sage. Aslaug! We need that sacrifice, now! This baby wants out, fast!" Despite her shouting, I felt relaxed. This was Helga taking charge, this was her battlefield and she was the commander. Everything would be okay. It had to be.


	134. The Things In Life Worth Dying For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-06-804

"No. Over my dead body." Aslaug didn't even feign surprise.

"It's either you or the baby. You were okay with that when Ivar was born."

"That's not the - aah!" I put a hand over my belly, rolling to my side to encase the child. She put her hand on the side of my face, as if it would make me feel it less. I was exhausted, and broken, but I wouldn't let her touch my child. 

"It needs to be done. Or you'll both die."

"Then let him live," I sobbed. "Choose him over me, I don't care what - " my plea was cut short by more pain.

"Bjorn wants you to live." Of course he wanted me to live, he didn't love our son like I did. Not yet.

"I don't care! I want my baby to live! You can't force me to give up my son!" I tried to clutch at her, but Aslaug was too far off by the time my arms reached out to her. "Promise me..."

"You won't make it through the night. You have to..." Her voice was drowned out by my screaming. She got up and left me behind. I only let her get close because Helga was beyond exhausted after two days of me screaming and trying to get the baby out, and that had been a mistake. Already she wanted to pull the child from me by force. The chances of the baby surviving that were beyond slim.

One of the new servants dabbed at my face with a wet cloth. As if that was of any use now. I wasn't comfortable, I couldn't rest, and I sure as Helheim wasn't in the mood for people touching me. If no one would help me, I had to take matters into my own hands. 

"I'll free you if you make sure my son survives." The woman didn't understand a word I said. She merely blinked, but she did stop dabbing. "Go get a knife. A sharp one. Now!" I'd cut this baby out of me myself. I didn't care if that meant I'd not be able to have any more children after this. The child in my belly was real, I didn't care about hypothetical children in the future. This one, the boy, he mattered. He was here right now, in desperate need of some more time, just a little help.

The servant left in a hurry, leaving me completely alone. I tried to get up, hoping that sitting upright would help my son come out. I failed even before I started, rolling on my back as a fresh wave of pain shot through me. The water I'd been drinking came out in sweat and tears, leaving me dehydrated all the same. 

It wasn't fair. I knew something would happen, and now it was here. Aslaug had lied to me, and to Bjorn, and everyone else. She would punish me for not threatening to slit her throat. I'd get her for this, I'd show her. My son would be proof of her failing as a queen, and I'd tear her to pieces. She would suffer. 

"I'm here, it's okay." Helga's voice soothed me a little as she put a hand to my face. She'd come back, at last. The rage inside me simmered down, and so did the fire that kept me going.

"Helga..." I cried, seeing how she was my last hope. She would help me, she promised. She would do as I asked. 

"Why do you need a knife?" That fucking whore had understood me perfectly. No wonder Helga had come when I had asked for something sharp. She couldn't have been asleep for more than a few hours, but at the merest hint of trouble she had woken up to make sure I wouldn't do anything stupid.

"There's this thing we can do where I come from..." I clutched her hand, squeezing to show her how strong I still was. I could take it.

"Ragnhild."

"You cut open my belly, from about here to here..." I cramped up again, making me grit my teeth and wince. "Then you... You - "

"I will not cut you open." I was certain my molars were about to break from the pressure they had to take.

"Helga, please listen. I can survive it. Me and the baby both, please, just hear me out."

"You lost too much blood. It's either you or the babe," she said, her voice trembling. If she... But she promised. She would be here for me, she wouldn't let Aslaug touch my child... She promised, she never lied to me before. We could still save my child, she promised.

"No, you can't. Helga, you promised. You wouldn't let Aslaug kill my child, please..." I crushed the sleeve of her dress in my fist, holding her hand close to my face. I needed to know she didn't mean it, it was just a poorly timed joke. "You - you promised, and Aslaug, she... My baby, she can't, I can..." Helga pulled me up enough for her to embrace me. I leaned into her body, wondering where the Helga I knew I could trust had gone. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I love you, and you have too much to live for. You can have more children, and you have the twins, too. Don't leave them... Don't leave me. Let me take care of you, please. Let me make sure that you get to hold your beautiful baby girl again, and that you will see Thormund swing a shield around. Our girls are going to be fast friends, just like us. We can watch them grow up together, discover who they are, and we can help them find the perfect dress for the boys they like, and I'll comfort you when Thormund leaves to go raiding for the first time, and every time after that. I want to live my life with you in it, please Ragnhild... Don't leave me."

Halfway through her words I stopped listening. She was selfish, crying her tears over me, and I knew why. I loved Helga too, more than I could say. She was the reason this summer wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, despite all that had happened... She had been my friend even back when I was still a slave. But in this, I had the last say. I was the one that got to be selfish. If she thought me important enough to ask me to give up my child so she could have me in her life, I was important enough to have my wishes respected.

"Let me sacrifice myself for my son. It's my body, and it's my life. I get to decide. Helga, I mean it. I don't want to live if that means my child dies to save me." I teared up again, or would have if I still had fluid left in my body to spare. The stinging behind my eyes made me close them for a second.

"Aslaug told me she and Bjorn talked it over. They agreed your life is more important." Bjorn... He had known this would come. He knew what I wanted, and still he left. That was why he had been so emotional the last night... He knew what I wanted. And still, he had gone against it. He had already made the decision for me, without even talking about it. How could he...

"I can do whatever... I damn well..." My breath left me in an agonizing yelp, making me collapse in her arms. I couldn't take much more of this. My back felt like it was breaking, my lungs were on fire, and every muscle in my body was aching. 

"Right now you need to rest. We'll try again in an hour or two. But if it doesn't come out..." They would kill my child while he was still in the womb. They would pull him from me with force, in pieces if they had to. The time for bargaining and diplomacy was over.

I closed my eyes as my little cabbage kept ripping through my body, seeming going every direction but out. I heard Helga's footsteps leave me, and as I heard her voice talking to someone at the other end of the hall I gathered all my strength to get up on my hands and knees. They wouldn't be able to kill him if they couldn't find him. I should've taken my chances in the forest, after all. He would have all the time in the world to come out. He just needed more time...

Crawling, trying to keep the screams down, I slowly made my way to the exit. The screens would keep me from sight for the most part, after that I'd have to move fast. I fell to my elbows as my belly cramped up, forcing me to stop moving. Biting my tongue to try and keep silent, I prayed this meant my baby was finally coming out. I pushed, forcing my body to come up to have a better angle. There was only hurt and pain. There was no relief, or a sudden flush through my pelvic, nor a tiny little cry. Sobbing, I kept on crawling. I swallowed back my choking heaves as I caught sight of the door. It was closed. I'd have to get up to open them.

Just another mountain to face. Just another step to take, to make it out alive. Just another sacrifice I had to make to keep my son safe. To keep both of us alive, if the gods were with us.

The support beam I used to get up on my feet creaked as I leaned into it with my full weight. Shifting my hand around for balance, feeling up the wall to guide me towards the doors, I took my first steps towards safety. Towards home. It was like my son knew what I needed from him, and he kept still so I could keep us safe. I kept following the wall for as long as I could, but then came the length between where I was and the front wall, with the big wooden doors.

I couldn't risk falling over. If I would land on my stomach... I had to tread carefully. I had to take this one step at a time. In the distance I could hear worried whispers, but no movement. I hadn't been seen yet. I could still make it out. My eyes were locked on the door. Almost. Another step. My outstretched hand was shaking from the concentration it took to keep going. 

"Auntie?" I froze. Sigurd stopped in front of me. He was wearing the socks I'd knitted for him, no wonder I hadn't heard him approach.

"Shh, don't say a word. I just need to get out for a bit of air. Your mother will get upset if she sees me going out."

"But you're bleeding." Having to stand still, I felt my legs grow heavy. One knee dropped to the floor, and I had to hold on to Sigurd to keep from falling over. I wanted to tell him I'd be alright, but I couldn't find the words. I couldn't ask him to help me, and have him feel guilty for the rest of his life for having killed me. I couldn't ask him to lie for me. A searing hot flash of pain shot through my belly. "Mother!" I closed my eyes, not wanting to admit defeat yet. "Mother, auntie is dying!" He tried to keep me upright, but my body slumped down to the floor. I could barely manage to keep from landing on my son. 

"Ragnhild!" Footsteps came running our way. 

"No... No, no, no! Stay away from me!" I fought the arms that tried to get me up. "Don't take away my baby! Don't kill my son, please! Let me die in his stead, please!" Shouting and wheezing I tried to get the hands off me. I couldn't see through the haze that covered my sight. 

They wouldn't leave me alone after this. I would have to fight them tooth and nail to keep them from murdering my son. My little cabbage. As I was returned to the birthing cloth I saw more and more servants coming in. They pushed me down to the ground, forcing me to stay put. 

"She's bleeding again," I heard Helga say. "We have to do something, now." I kept trying to fight, but my body wasn't able to do much with the servants weighing down on my joints. I could only move around my hips, and some of my legs.

"You there, fetch us the kit. Helga..."

"No! You promised! Helga, you promised! Don't let her decide! Don't..." I gasped for air, it only came in ragged, and painful. Helga looked down at me with pity in her eyes, and fear. I closed my eyes, preparing to start wailing again. 

"I - I can't..."

"You have to save her life," Aslaug said. "You need to save her."

"Fuck you, Aslaug! Don't you touch my baby, ever! I saved your son's life, and this is how you repay me! Ivar lives because of me! Let my son live, too, please!"

"She's moving around too much. Even if I wanted to..."

"My baby! Don't take him from me, please! Don't you dare... Don't..." I broke down sobbing, trying to pull up my legs, writhing around my arms to break free. I didn't have much time left. I just needed to get away from here. 

"Hold her still! No, the legs should go up!" For all the good it did me, I screamed in protest. I felt my legs being forced into an angle, with people holding them as steady as they could.

"She's too strong!" I cried out again, eyes blinded with pain. They didn't allow me any room to move. I knew what was happening, I felt the iron thongs slide past my thighs. I bucked my hips, but I was met with a sharp pain that crossed over my left thigh.

"Ragnhild! Calm down, let us save you!" I bucked my hips again, gaining a little movement in my legs. The thongs stopped inching forward, and that meant safety. Another painful gash spread across my leg. If I could get them to cut a major artery, I'd bleed out and they would have no choice but to save my son. They wouldn't even get near him. I'd show them how determined I was about this.

"You'll die! Stop fighting!" 

"Vessel!" My eyes shot wide open, seeing Vinh between my legs. 

"Get the fuck out! Don't you fucking dare!" She put a hand on my belly, making me writhe even more. I screamed out again as I felt a flash of hot pain over my lower abdomen. 

"Be careful! Let someone hold that for you!" Aslaug yelled. I kept on thrashing, banging my head against the floor in my attempts to break free. "Helga, do something! She can't die, she has to live!" A hand took hold of my head, forcing me to look up at the ceiling. Helga appeared in sight, tears in her eyes. 

"You'll only make it worse, please... Let us save your life."

"Don't let them kill my son, please save him... Helga, please. I can't live without him, you have to understand!" I kept thrashing, new wounds flashing all across my thighs. Once or twice I felt the kiss of iron bite into my flesh.

"Ragnhild, I beg of you, please... You're only making it worse! Please, we need you. We can't let you go, you have to be strong!" I had to take a breath, and Vinh made full use of it, sliding the thongs inside of me. I managed to get up a few centimeters, then was forced on my back, hands pushing down on my shoulders. 

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you! Don't you dare touch him! I'll kill you!" Helga tried to pull my attention back on her, but it was no use. The more the thongs probed around, the more I felt my energy surge in a last attempt to break free. I had to get out, or my son would die. 

"Relax, I'll be done in no time. I've done this countless times before," Vinh said with unsettling ease. It didn't keep her from holding onto a knife while she tried to tear my son to pieces, cutting me open everywhere but the place I wanted to. If she offered to slice open my belly, I would have lain still without complaint. If she was too cowardly to slice my arteries, I'd do it for her. But she kept digging, turning, twisting, both knife and thongs, and in my heart I knew it was too late. 

A bloodcurdling scream came from me as I felt the thongs coming out again, clutching something hard that scraped past my legs. More warm fluid poured out of me, and I knew it wasn't mine. 

"No!" I wanted them all to die. They should suffer as my son did, and I would make sure they would. I would remember their faces, haunt their nightmares and curse their families. "No!' My cry stretched out, dying down as I fell into despair and darkness. 

I had lost, it was too late. The pain became my world as I refused to believe what had just happened, trying to force out Vinh's thongs that went inside of me again. It didn't stop hurting, only got worse the longer it lasted. My body thrashed around, fighting the fate that had been dealt to my son. My little cabbagge, my beautiful boy. 

"It's done." No new pain came. I saw Vinh get up, covering whatever was left of my son in her hands. The cloth was soaked with blood. The strange arms let go of me, at last.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. There was only pain, and suffering. Aside from Helga sobbing over me and clinging to my face, there was only silence. 

"I'll take it," Aslaug said. She rose to her feet with the soaked bundle, spurring me to react.

"No, please... Let me hold him..." I tried to get up, but Helga kept me down. "Aslaug. Let me hold him... Where are you - no!" She left, not looking back at me. "No! You fucking bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you! Give me my son, now!" I heard the doors to the hall fall shut. 

"It's better if you don't see him like this," Helga said as she gently stroked my hair. With her grip loosened I tried to get up one last time, but I'd lost too much blood. I'd gone through too much pain. I felt myself getting light-headed and fell back. 

"They killed him... Helga, they killed him. How could they..." It was hard to keep my eyes open, or to swallow. 

"You're alive, that's what matters." She was lying. Helga was lying to me, I'd never be fine again, or safe. The soft, gentle prattle from her lips were flecked with sorrow, and grief, and it meant nothing to me. "That remains to be seen," I heard Vinh say. I tried to move, but I couldn't. I could only feel the pain in between my legs, and how my heart was slowly dying. She had killed him. She had taken away my baby, and my will to live. There was only pain, and hurt, and hate.

"Get out, you bitch." Helga's eyes were no longer focused on me. I was certain Vinh was laughing at me. "Leave, before I cut you up." Vinh disappeared from between my legs, and Helga took over, calling for all kinds of things. My head turned to the side, and the ache I felt between my legs was slowly being matched by the pain of my heart being torn apart. They had torn apart my son, pulled him from my womb, piece by piece, until he was small enough to be pulled out... All because he was a little late showing his face.


	135. The Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 21-06-804

"Auntie?" Sigurd sounded... Sad. Almost as sad as I was. But that couldn't be. No one could feel my pain, not the way I clung to it. "Are you still hurt?"

"I am," I whispered. I kept staring dead ahead, looking at a knot in the wooden wall I was facing. Sigurd put his head in front of my view, startling me. 

"Can I help you feel better?" He couldn't. No one could. Not after what had happened. "Do you need a hug?"

"I do." As the words left my mouth I started crying again. I turned around, lifting up the furs. Sigurd crawled in the cot with me, letting me take him in my arms. His tiny fingers brushed over my arm. 

"I'm sorry you lost the baby. He would have been really happy to have you take care of him. And I can know that, because you take care of me, as well." His words only made me cry harder. 

"Sigurd..."

"I was really scared that you would die. Because if I lost you I would be almost alone. And then I would have to take care of the twins, but I think I'm too young to do that as good as you. Sneezy is fine, remember how you told me to try and take care of him myself? He loves it when I play with him, and I don't care what mother says. He's mine, and I'll feed him and play with him and make sure he gets along with the other goats. Helga said I couldn't bring him with me, I wanted to show you how well he's been doing. She's been crying too, I think she's sad as well. And now mother has the servants looking after the twins, and they keep doing it wrong. Siggy has this weird smell, like she's not bathed right. They miss you, too." The more he kept talking, the calmer I felt. It was a brief distraction, just a glimpse of the world beyond the cot. I hadn't left it since Helga had dragged me over to the hall almost a weeks ago. 

"I'm sure it's just the soap, I have a different one at home. What else has been going on?" Sigurd launched into more disconnected stories, telling me whatever came to mind. Someone had caught a huge fish, some traders had asked about me, and there was this thing going on with Ivar but he didn't know what it was. 

After a while, Sigurd grew tired. It was getting late, but I knew I wouldn't fall asleep for a while yet. Still, holding the boy close to me, I could almost convince myself it was okay to think of him as my son, as if he had survived and we were years from now. 

"It's okay, Sigurd. You can sleep if you want to. Don't stay up for my sake."

"Goodnight, auntie." He snuggled in closer, not bothering to undress or brush his teeth before dozing off. I kissed the crown of his head and lay down a bit more comfortable myself. As I closed my eyes, I realized the boy had made me feel a little better. I hadn't even thought that was possible.

In the distance I could hear voices arguing, then seats scraping over the floor. If she knew I was still awake, Aslaug would want to try and talk to me again. I kept my eyes shut as I heard her come near, followed by Helga. 

"You can't just tell her to -" Helga's voice stopped mid-sentence. The silence lingered for a few seconds.

"Well, at least she's letting someone in. I'd say a little tough love is just what she needs," Aslaug said.

"What she needs is closure. Tell her where you buried her son. Let her know we're here for her, no matter what she needs."

"Right now, she'd just ask for a sharp knife. She needs to go back home and take care of her children. She should count her blessings she even survived after what Vinh has done."

"Vinh did it on purpose, and you know that. She's never been this clumsy before, or as quick to move. It was like she knew she would be needed, like..." A sharp gasp followed. "Aslaug! You - your vision, you knew... She was right, you knew what would happen..."

"It was unavoidable!" Aslaug's angry whisper tore through my bones. "I saw how much blood she would lose, and that I would bury her son out in the woods. I did what I had to keep her alive. Do you think it was easy for me?"

"Easy for you?!"

"Shh!"

"You coldhearted bitch... You have no idea just what she's been going through ever since she realized, do you?"

"I know what she still needs to do. She holds the fate of the Viking in her hands. The boy had to die for that to happen. I haven't just saved her, I have saved the entire world as we know it."

"Then why did I hear Frida say she was paid in full? Ragnhild told me what was to happen to Ivar." What? I held my breath, wanting to hear more. At the same time, I wanted them to get the fuck out.

"Frida was satisfied with the wergeld, after she heard our little princess is probably barren. Apparently she had wished for the child to die, and she felt horrible when it happened. Don't try and tell me I did this all on purpose." That was exactly what I thought happened, after hearing this out of Aslaug's mouth. We'd been unable to try and fix something for Ivar's case, and I'd made sure to tell her just how adamant Frida was about keeping onto her hatred, to make her see how serious it all was. "I didn't wish for any of this to happen. The gods have never shown me a vision that I was able to change, why should this one be different?"

"Because it was about her. Do you not believe she can change our path? Do you not think the gods might have had different plans for her?"

"Don't you dare lay this at my feet. I am the queen, and I know what's best for my people, Ragnhild included. I will drag her out of that cot tomorrow, and I will get her to grow the fuck up. No one can expect me to take care of four children by myself."

"If you lay as much as a finger on her, I'll kill you." A pair of feet came my way, then a body sat down on the floor. 

"You can't be serious. You mean to guard her?"

"You used me, and the love I hold for her. I'm not as quick to forgive as she is. Now get the fuck out." I heard a lot of huffing and puffing, followed by Aslaug storming off. Helga started sobbing, she was close. I could feel her presence. A hand gently touched my hair. 

"I told you," I whispered. The fingers recoiled. I opened my eyes, seeing just how badly Helga had been crying. The kohl she always wore was reduced to a few faint smudges. "I knew something bad would happen."

"Ragnhild..." I took in a deep breath, letting my chin rest on Sigurd's head. "You heard?" I closed my eyes for a second. 

"It might just be my imagination... But I thought I heard Aslaug say she traded my son for hers." Helga wiped the tears from her eyes. 

"There's no way to prove it..." Had I still been able to cry after Sigurd had tired me out, I would have felt tears falling down my face now. Instead, I went blank again. I barely noticed a hand lying on the side of my face. I stared off in the distance, blocking out everything I felt. There was only pain, and hurt, and hate. All because my son was a little late showing his face.


	136. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10-07-804

"Where is she?" His voice sounded cheerful, hopeful even. "Aslaug?" Worry started to set in. He'd find out soon, what had happened. His hopes and dreams would be crushed, and then he would want to touch me, as if he could comfort me. As if I hadn't suffered for weeks already. The hall grew silent, the voices simmering down to a murmur. They knew.

"She's resting, in the back." Footsteps. Silence. More footsteps. A hand touched my shoulder. 

"Ragnhild?" Worry, sorrow setting in. "What..." Yes, Bjorn. What? What were you thinking, what could you possibly say? 

A gentle pull at my shoulder, almost rolling me on my back. I turned back again, facing the wall. He tried again, but I refused to bend to his will. I refused to comfort him, or make him feel better. I had been suffering, and now he would as well. He had some catching up to do. And some dark, twisted part of me enjoyed the agony he would go through. I wanted him to suffer.

"You lost the child?" I tried to shut him out, but even as I closed my eyes I felt the tears rolling over my face, all headed towards the ear I was resting on. I hated how it tickled, as if those tears could do me any good at all.

A scuffling sound, things being put down, and then a body tried to squeeze itself between me and the wall. I turned to my other side before he could get comfortable. A desperate sigh, followed by another hand on my shoulder. Then my hip. 

"Ragnhild, please..." I lost it as his hand touched my belly. 

"Don't you fucking touch me," I hissed as I got up, stumbling as I tried to find my feet. Bjorn reached out, tried to help me stand, but I didn't want him near me. I slapped away his hand and nearly fell over as I did. I was too weak to fight him like I should. I wasn't strong like before, with... Already the world tried to spin away from me.

"I can't help you when you push me away like this." 

"You've done more than enough. I can't even look at you." He wanted to pull me into his arms, down on that cot again, but I fought him off. Even as he came to his feet he refused to give up, making me back up. "What are you talking about? What do you think I did?" My hand slammed on the belt he had put on the table, the hilt of a knife underneath my palm. I yanked it out, held it out towards him, my hands shaking as I pointed it at his throat. If I had the strength, I'd kill him. I'd killed before and I would do it again, gods be damned.

"Is it true?" My voice broke as I spoke the words. The answer would haunt me. I knew it was true, but I needed to hear it from him. I needed him to admit he was guilty. 

"What do you think I did?" His hand moved to take the blade away, but I waved it around enough to deter him. It made me want to stab at him, watch the blood flow from his veins.

"Did you... And Aslaug..." My voice broke again, not wanting to have to say the words out loud. "Did you talk about it?" I swallowed hard. "Did you tell her to choose me?" Realization hit Bjorn like a ton of bricks. His face went pale, and filled with regret and sorrow. He was starting to feel the pain, but it didn't go deep enough yet. He would never understand how much I was hurting.

"I can't lose you. She told me what you wanted her to promise last time." I closed my eyes, still holding on to the knife. "We can have more children. The twins need their mother. And I need you."

"You don't understand," I whispered. "This is not life. I tried to tell you, and you brushed it off. How am I supposed to live without him?"

"A boy?" Bjorn had the audacity to feel happy about it, his eyes lighting up just a bit. As if he was somehow responsible for the gender of our child, as if it mattered. Had it been a girl I would have been off the same. "Yes. A boy. Or so I was told. I never got to lay eyes on him. They took him away before I could even see his beautiful face."

"That only would've made it more painful for you." He took half a step towards me, just shy of what it would take me to react. 

"I can't feel any more pain than this. I'm still breathing, but that's it. I still breathe air, and my heart still beats, but that's all I am now. You don't even fucking care, do you? Do you!" I tried to lunge at him, but he smacked the knife from my hand and wrapped his arms around me. "Let me go! You fucking worthless piece of shit, don't you dare touch me! You killed him! You killed him, and you killed me!" I fought him, trying to get away from his embrace. I screamed, tried to put my elbow to his stomach, stomped on his feet, tried to scratch the meat off his bones.

"It's okay, I know you're angry at me." His soft words enraged me even further. It wasn't okay. He didn't know. Angry didn't describe how I felt. And I wasn't just angry at him, he was just the closest target. "Get your hands off me! I needed you before you left, and you fucking went anyway! What the fuck makes you think I want to see you at all!" 

"Bjorn." He let go of me, making me even more angry. I tried to punch him, and scratch his eyes out, and slap him in the face. 

"You left me! You killed him! You killed him, you fucking monster!" He got a hold of my wrists as I kept screaming at him, tried to kill him, but he looked away, as if I wasn't a serious threat at all. He had no idea what I was capable of.

"She's been like this for a while. Just - just let her be. We tried everything." I jerked free from his grip and lay down on the cot again, exhausted from trying to kill him. It hurt to realize I couldn't even fight with him any more. I couldn't do anything but lay down, cry, and hold Sigurd close. It was the only thing that kept me from lashing out, breaking down, or both.

"What happened? Helga... I've never seen her like this. She tried to stab me." The scrape of seats being pulled back. 

"She held on for over two days." I dove underneath the furs even deeper, pulling the pillow over my ears. "The child was stuck, there was nothing... We had to keep her down to save her. She - she didn't want us to, to the point she tried to run away while she was in labor. It took a lot of people to get her to lay still, and then we still had trouble." Did he even know what that meant? Could he even imagine the horror of it?

"How long ago was it?"

"About five weeks back. She's in terrible shape, and not just her mind." Five weeks and a day. Thirty-six days. 870 hours, give or take. And it still hurt, it still felt like my heart was crumbling.

"She looks terrible."

"That's the least of it. I'm... Bjorn, we're not sure she could ever have another child. The way she bled, and the moving around she did... Vinh made a mess of it. I barely managed to save her life." A silence fell. It lingered, and it made me feel a little better. His suffering was starting to begin.

"Did she..." Coward. Even now he didn't dare say the words out loud. I hadn't tried to kill myself that day. I had killed... No, that hadn't been me. He was alive, last I saw him. Even though we fought, I hadn't killed him. "I stopped her. No one else knows. She's been here ever since."

"Gods..." His sigh was muffled, as if he buried his face in his hands. He never did that where others could see. "And the twins?"

"They're fine. I have been taking care of them. Every time she sees them she starts crying."

"Does she talk about it with you?"

"She shuts everyone out, only Sigurd seems to get through to her. He and I are the only ones that can touch her without her screaming. I'm sorry you had to come back to this." Helga sounded broken. I knew I was asking too much of her, but she fully understood how I didn't want Aslaug around the twins anymore, why I trusted no one but her, and I was tearing her apart by asking her for too much. And in her guilt, she went on, for me. 

"I prayed to the gods it would be her fears."

"No prayer could have made this better. She needed you, and you were gone. She resents you for having made the decision at all."

"Did she tell you?"

"Aslaug did. I'll tell you more about it later, it's just... Hold your children. They need you. You can't do anything for her now." One seat scraped over the floor, then the second. 

"Ragnhild..." Bjorn tried to get me to look at him again. I couldn't face him. I didn't want to have to hear or see him. I didn't want to smell the sea and sweat on his furs. "Do you want to go home?" Home... Back in the future, where my son could have lived. Back when I didn't have to make peace with my son being murdered in my womb, just for having his head stuck on my cervix. Where a simple C-section wouldn't be impossible, or a simple midline cut would have given him more room, and this all could have been prevented. Where I wouldn't have gotten pregnant in the first place. 

"Can we come and say hi?" That was Ubbe's voice. 

"Ragnhild?" Hvitserk was there, too. 

"She's not feeling well," Bjorn said. "She - We lost the baby." It cut through my heart to hear him say it. I had lost our son, he had been fine with Vinh cutting me up like a chunk of meat, with having her crack open my son's skull so it would collapse when my body pushed out the boy. He hadn't felt my son's blood and brains dripping out of him, or felt the scratching of his skull fragments against his thigh.

"I'm sorry," Ubbe said. Even through the furs I could hear how deep his sorrow went. "Come on Hvitserk, we'll come back later." A hand moved over my back, through the furs. I was too tired to fight, or shout. I just wanted to fall asleep, and never wake up again. 

"Will you fight me if I try to bring you home with me?" I knew Bjorn wouldn't leave me alone. I knew I wanted to get away from this place. Only a few meters off, my son had died. But I would lash out, I would break down, something bad would happen. My demons would come out again.

When I didn't respond he picked me up in his arms. I kept my hands across my abdomen, wanting to protect the pain I felt from him. It was all there was left of me, of our son. He wouldn't touch it, ever. It was mine to bear.

The hall fell silent as we moved through it. Everyone must have heard the shouting, and the accusations I had thrown around. All the faces I saw looked at me with pity. Floki, Ragnar, even Torstein. I didn't care. I just wanted to lie in bed and keep my pain inside. My son had died so I could live. And I'd be damned if I ever forgot that, or not felt the pain his sacrifice had caused. 

Bjorn put me down on the bed, on top of the furs. I immediately turned around to face the wall. 

"I know you don't want to talk to me, but I just want to say this. If Helga's right and you can't have any more children, that means I will make the most of what we do have. I love you, and I hate to see you suffer like this. But I will take care of you, and the twins, as I vowed in front of the gods when we got married." This wasn't the time for romantic gestures. 

"Please leave." A weight pushed on the mattress. 

"Ragnhild, I'll never leave you. Do you really think I'll divorce you because of this?"

"I meant for you to get out." He sighed, then touched my shoulder again. My body had gone through too much already today, and I didn't have the fire to fight him any more. I just wanted to be alone with my pain. 

"Will you let me take care of you?"

"Do what you want. It's not like I get to decide what happens to me anymore." Another sigh, even more tired than the one before. Bjorn started to rummage around a bit, then pulled me upright. Softly, gently, he pulled down my nightgown. I clutched it around my waist, hating both the smell after I'd worn it for a week, and the idea of having to pull it over my head and being vulnerable. Bjorn sighed again as he saw how bad I looked. 

"Didn't Helga take care of you?" I knew he wanted to touch me, if only because he didn't believe his eyes. My breasts were covered in scars and red, tender skin, with clear discolored spots where the sores had been. The veins covering my breasts were still dark, close to the surface, and looked menacing. Underneath there were ribs clearly showing. I wasn't skin and bones exactly, but anyone could see I had lost quite some weight, just from looking at my face and my wrists. I'd barely eaten since it happened.

"It's better than before," I said, averting my eyes. I refused to acknowledge my lack of self-care. Silently, he got to work, cleaning my skin with a damp cloth. I whimpered as he tried to clean my breasts. They were still sore whenever someone touched them, or when I lay on top of them. 

Then came the worst part. He pulled the gown back up to cover my top half, but then he wriggled the fabric up from beneath my legs, revealing my shame. I stared at him, seeing everything in his eyes. Shame. Pain. Pity. Embarrassment. Anger, sadness, rage. 

"Helga didn't tell me you fought like this." His eyes took in the lascerations, but he didn't touch them yet. He knew scars, and how cuts tended to heal. He knew how deep the blade had gone, at what angle and what kind of force had been behind it. He knew this wasn't an accident, but he didn't know that it was the same on the inside. Vinh had carved up my son, as well.

"There's a major artery running across the inside of your leg. Vinh's an idiot. She wouldn't be able to kill me if she tried." 

"You wanted her to kill you?" I shrugged, not wanting to tear open another wound. Bjorn carefully moved over the scarred tissue, then ended up at my ankles. As soon as he was done I crawled underneath the furs and pretended to sleep. 

One of my hands moved over the scars on my legs, then my abdomen. It was a silent prayer, asking the gods to take care of my little cabbage. Every line was proof of how I had tried to protect my son. Each one was a reason I hated Bjorn. The bitterness I felt was becoming a fast friend. My brother would have been able to save my son. And I had killed him, to protect my family. 

"Paris was a bust," Bjorn said. I heard him take off his clothes. He was washing up himself while he was at it. "Rollo caught us unaware, and we barely even made it to Paris. We had to lift the boats out of the water and carry them over land for a mile or two to get past these forts he had built. And you were right about Ragnar. He's been taking this weird stuff Idu gave him. He strangled her, in front of... It doesn't matter." I opened my eyes, seeing his shadow reflected on the wall as he moved around. He pretended like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn't just heard my son had died, and that I'd never conceive again. 

"I don't care." 

"I almost died." I honestly didn't know how to respond to that. He sat down with a sigh, getting underneath the furs as well. "It's part of who we are. It's part of our lives." My lip started to shake in anger. 

"Get out," I said, so much venom in my voice I scared even myself. Losing my cabbage had changed me, into a husk. I couldn't feel, or hear, or do anything without thinking of my baby. And my demons loved taking advantage of that. "Get out, or I'll kill you while you sleep."

"Ragnhild..."

"Now."

"I won't be sent off like a dog." I turned around, seeing the defiance in his eyes melt away. I'd have to get a new bed, if I killed him when he slept. Would the blood seep through to the floor? I'd have to clean my treasures underneath the bed as well. Bjorn loved making things difficult for me.

"Get. Out. Now." Just when I started to move myself, intent on finding a knife, Bjorn got out from under the furs. I watched him put on a fresh set of clothes and walk out, not bothering to look back at me. As soon as the doors fell shut, I jumped out of bed and started smashing things. 

I never asked to be brought here. I never wanted to fall in love, or almost die, or have someone tell me what I felt was just natural. This couldn't be natural. This couldn't be my life. This was pure agony, this was dying on the inside. 

I threw wooden plates at the wall, over and over until they were all broken. I flung mugs, and cutlery, and then I came across my steel knives. It would be so easy. It would only take a second. I'd stop hurting. I'd be with my son. My little cabbage. Just a little slit of the wrist, a slip of my hand. 

I was too tired to think straight. I couldn't even cry anymore, or fling anything around. I left the knives on the table and went to bed again. At least in my dreams I could hold my boy in my arms.


	137. Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-11-804

With all of Bjorn's talk of wanting everything to go back to normal, I hadn't considered he meant the complete opposite. And he did it in the worst possible way.

He would wake up and ask me how I'd slept. Then he'd get up and feed the twins, then make us breakfast. In the morning he'd usually get out for an hour or two to train, or talk about things that mattered to the kingdom with Ragnar, while his father was at least slightly sober. Then he'd come back to check if I'd eaten anything, and tell me all about his morning adventures in excruciating detail, as if to tell me life was out there, not inside the walls of our home. In the afternoon he did laundry, or cleaned the house, or cleaned me, went to the market, tried to get the twins to go potty, and then he'd make dinner. He lived my life for me, and he was getting better and better at it.

I just lay in bed. I barely ate during the day, I drank a lot during the nights, I shouted at Bjorn whenever he tried to get me to talk, and most of all I enjoyed the moments Bjorn was away. Then I'd hold the twins, and talk to them. I told them about flying boats, and about their brother. I changed their swaddling, and washed them almost every day. I took care of them, and I loved them. Life was easier without Bjorn. Even the boys would come by, cheering me up with their stories about the town and how their training was going.

Ubbe was mostly smug about the fact he had been chosen. He and his brothers were some of the few people who knew how I was doing, and he loved that. It made him feel special, even though he tried to hide it when he was with me. But most of all, he was proud. He knew I counted on him, and it fed into his desire to prove how much of a man he was. With Ragnar off doing drugs all the time and Bjorn having to fill in where Aslaug would cause more harm than good, he felt like he was responsible for keeping the family together. I saw it, and I ignored it.

Hvitserk was much more focused on me. He kept bringing me things, for my collection. He brought me rocks he thought interesting, and leaves that he said held a drop of sunlight that would brighten my day, like in one of my stories, or a chicken egg that would hatch a dragon, or a snake, or a frog. I loved to hear the stories he made up, and in return he would coyly ask me to tell a story in return. 

Sigurd came by most often, as if it was still last winter. We'd sit side by side, and I'd try to teach him to read normal letters, or we'd drink tea, he brought me herbs he collected when he went into the forest with a servant to supervise him, but most of the time we'd just sit. He would let me hold him, I would close my eyes and imagine he was my son, and both of us were happy. Bjorn hated seeing it, but he didn't dare take away the one thing that made me smile.

I knew it was wrong, but Sigurd loved it. He wasn't old enough to realize what I was doing, instead loving the attention he got, basking in me hanging on his every word, always eager to drop by again. I knew better, I should have stopped, but I was too weak. I treated him like he was my son, the one I'd lost. Every hug I gave Sigurd was one that Kol received as well, and the same went for things I taught him, and stories he heard, and food that we ate.

The evenings were hardest of all. Bjorn would try and talk to me. He tried understanding me, and getting angry at me, and demanding, and soothing, and silence. It never worked. I only cast back snide remarks, and blame. I always wanted to use the evenings to plan ahead, to come up with new ideas, but he always interrupted. It wasn't until I lay in bed, the last few minutes before I fell asleep, that I could heal. Only when it was done could I let him in again.

"You look even more pathetic than when we got back," Lagertha remarked after dinner. She was the fourth person Bjorn had asked for help in getting me to talk. Floki hadn't gotten very far, Helga had refused to entertain his foolish idea, Aslaug and Ragnar had made for terse conversation... But Lagertha, she knew how to handle me. She knew what to say to get me back on my feet again, after the moons Bjorn had dragged me along in his pretend fantasy that everything was alright and I could do no wrong. "I thought you were supposed to be strong." I kept my mouth shut, as I had done with Bjorn every time he tried. Him bringing in help didn't change much.

"Mother," Bjorn said, clearly thinking she was overdoing it.

"Does she think she is the only one who ever lost a child?" The venom in Lagertha's voice reminded me she had lost a son as well, before Ragnar had met Aslaug. "These things happen, and then we bounce back. I don't see her bouncing. I don't see her taking care of her children. I don't see her trying. You hear that, Ragnhild? You're acting like a selfish, spoiled little brat that should know better than to try and hide away from her problems." I scoffed at her words.

"Shut your fucking face, Lagertha. Do you really think this whole tough love thing will work? Don't you think Aslaug tried this already? All you're achieving is that you're reminding me of my father." Ever since Wessex, Lagertha had changed. Something had happened to her there, that made her act brash and unpredictable. Something inside of her had broken, more than any romance gone bad could. She wasn't the type to be swept away, nor the type to break after being raped. Whatever it was, she was suffering, but not as badly as me.

If anything, Lagertha should understand how cruel the world could be, and those she loved were cruelest of all. Aslaug, for example. She would regret choosing me over my son. She had made a choice, and the consequences would tear apart her world. And still, some part of me realized that without her, I never even would have gotten the twins, or the boys, or even my little cabbage. I hated her, but hated the fact that I still cared for her even more.

"Then why aren't you doing something? Anything?" Lagertha's eyes were hard and unforgiving, like Bjorn's had been the day he left me behind. I tried to put the words in the right order in my head and failed. "I lost a son as well." My eyes flashed up at hers, and suddenly the words poured out. Hers had been a miscarriage, before the child was fully grown. She had overextended herself, she had kept on drinking, and it had been years back, before Ubbe had been born.

"Did you, now? Did you really?" She wanted to protest, but Bjorn cut her off. "Do you remember how it took two days to weaken you enough before Aslaug and Helga were discussing killing your child? Can you still feel where the fear cut as you saw people coming towards you to keep you down? While you were screaming, bleeding, wanting it all to be over? Can you still recall how you tried to run off so you could cut him out of your belly yourself? Are you sure you felt all hope abandon you as you heard Aslaug call out for the thongs?" I choked up as I was flooded with memories of how painful it had been. The bodily harm had healed, most of it at the least, but the scarring... I couldn't stand to be here any longer. I needed to get out. I needed space.

"What are you doing?" Bjorn asked.

"I'm getting out of here, what does it look like?" I got changed, not caring who could see the marks between my legs and on my abdomen. I threw some stuff into a bag and got a warm cloak to wrap around myself, the biggest I could find.

"Where are you going?" Bjorn asked. "It's cold outside." I turned to face him, feeling livid.

"So now you decide about my life yet again. You say who lives, you say who dies. What I say doesn't matter." I went back to getting my things.

"I didn't want you to die. Please, just talk to me."

"I tried to talk to you, once. And this is what it got us."

"How was I supposed to know all of this would happen?" His ignorance was astounding. I put one hand on the table, and one on the back rest of the seat he was using.

"Let's go over it, shall we? It started with Aslaug's premonition. You could have forced her to tell you what she saw. If you had heard, you never would have left. You could've talked to me after you found out I wanted her to let our son live. Instead, you decided what would happen, if my silly fears turned out to be right. You decided on what would happen to my body, and what I can and can't die for. Does that ring any bells, Ironside?" Before he could reach out to me I grabbed my bag and took the twins from their crib, wrapping them up in my cloak for warmth.

"Ragnhild. Ragnhild! Where do you think you're going with those babies? You can't even take care of them!" I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. Lagertha tried to get up, but Bjorn kept her seated somehow. "I asked you here to get her to talk, and now she has. After all the fighting she did to keep our son alive, do you really think she'd put them at risk?" His words brought me to tears as I left the house. Now he spoke in my defense. Now he understood why I had wanted him to stay home. "You can still see the blood on the..." I kicked the door shut, wanting to drown out the sound. With the twins tucked away, fussing over the cold, I headed out. 

The town was more busy than I anticipated for this time of night. Bjorn had promised me it would be good to get out of the house again, but everywhere I looked, I saw my son. My little cabbage. The one I wasn't allowed to die for. I saw the hall where he would have been blessed, the beach where he would have trained, and the market square, about to burst at the seams, where he would play and have fun, trying to keep up with the twins. 

Just as unnerving were the prying eyes, people coming towards me that made me fear they would hold me down. I dashed off, ignoring the few voices that called out. In the square I saw a face that turned pale as she saw me. She hurried getting her things on a cart. I turned around again, heading towards the forest instead. This wasn't the time for my demons to come out again. I had to think on this first, not lash out like before. The snows had come early this year. It dampened the sounds around me, thick tufts lazily drifting down, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My eyes took in everything, seeing all, hating everything in sight. I had to get out, escape the pressure of the silence, and the looks. I hadn't been outside since Bjorn had brought me home, and before that there had only been a few errands that had warranted me leaving my house. They involved the twins, to make sure they wouldn't starve, even though I could barely see them without crying. 

Their brother had died, and they wouldn't even remember him. They were too young, they would only hear the stories of how I spent moons on end crying, unable to take care of them. But what they would never know, what no one would know, was how I had gotten revenge. The Lawgiver had been the first, but wouldn't be the last. The one errand I had run that didn't involve food, at least not for me or the twins. 

I made slow time, but I kept on walking, thinking back to the square. I needed more time for this. I walked past the trees, the rocks, the meadow where I used to tell Bjorn of my problems. The snowed-over workshop, until I could feel the heat from the house inside biting at my face. I knocked a little clumsily, Siggy fussing as she was moved from her warm little lair against my chest.

"Ragnhild?" Floki's eyes went wide as he realized I had walked all the way here. He stepped back, causing a warm rush of air to set my face alight. I entered and let Floki take Siggy off my arm. Helga helped me out of my cloak and guided me to their fire.

"I didn't know where else to go," I whispered, shivers taking over.

"Did you get into a fight?" Helga didn't even sound surprised, nor did she look up as she tried to rub some feeling into my feet. I couldn't even feel them anymore. 

"Lagertha thought that reminding me of her miscarriage would help. She thought I was overreacting." As my face started to thaw, so did my tears. She thought I wasn't good enough for Bjorn, not while I was broken like this. 

"She shouldn't have done that. She wasn't there." Ever since Aslaug's confession, Helga had gone out of her way to support me, in whatever way she could. Even now she agreed with me, and it was nice not to have to explain to her what I felt. She understood, somehow. It went beyond a guilt-ridden blind following.

"Usually she knows how to handle this better," Floki said carefully.

"She didn't feel how he was ripped from her womb. She wasn't held down, and cut to pieces against her wishes. She didn't -" I swallowed, taking in a breath. "She didn't feel..." As I started to wail, Thormund joined in. I sat for a while, clinging onto my son. 

"For what it's worth, I am glad you are still alive." I looked up to Floki with dead eyes, tears still rolling down my face. 

"Would you give your life to save Helga? Angrboda, Ragnar?" He looked down at Siggy, holding her hand between two fingers. "I was ready to give my life for that of my child. How is that weakness? How is that a fault, or part of having a weak heart?"

"I understand," Helga said, pain clear in her eyes. "We had no right to take that choice away from you."

"It's not how we do things," Floki sighed. "And well, with your... History..."

"Then all I'll ever do is tainted? Whenever I get hurt, you wonder if I did it on purpose?" I felt myself getting angry, and Helga noticed.

"How are you feeling?" I took a steadying breath, then another. Helga knew I would throw things if she didn't distract me at this point.

"Bjorn insists on taking care of me as if I'm a babe, and it helps him deal with the guilt. He keeps on taking care of everything, and it annoys me to no end. But every time I try to tell him I don't want to see him I start yelling at him. I can't do anything when he's around. He just - he pretends like nothing happened. And when I'm tired from the day he tries to talk to me. I - I just can't... I can't talk to him about it. I don't want to have to explain to him why I hate him, or why I can't stand to see him trying this hard."

"You make no sense," Floki said. He was hoping to lighten up the mood, but it only backfired.

"Floki! This is not the time for jokes, or trying to figure out what's going on in her head. She's come to us for help, not for more questions and weird looks and judgment."

"Then I will keep my tongue, but my questions remain." Helga put on some tea, much to my delight. Despite the roaring fire, I was still cold.

"It's too dark and cold for you to go back tonight. Will you go back tomorrow?" I bit my lip, not wanting to think about that yet.

"I'm not sure if I can go back without smashing in his face. I need him to stop pulling at me all day, and then push me at night. It feels like I can't breathe when he's around. He's suffocating me."

"Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe I could talk to him again?" I sighed, not wanting to admit I needed help talking to Bjorn.

"You have your own daughter to take care of. I don't want to burden you more than I have to. I know how guilty you feel for your part in everything." A brooding silence fell. I emptied my mug and got up to put Thormund down for the night. Floki put Siggy down next to him, and with Angrboda there as well... Floki put an arm around me.

"My little cabbage," I sobbed, feeling tears burning at the sight of my twins and the baby. I leaned into Floki, trying to find anything beyond the nagging hunger for revenge to get me past my grief.

"Kol? You named your son?" 

"Oh - it's just a nickname. Did I... It means cabbage." I didn't even realize it meant something in Norse, when I said it in my own language.

"I've never heard it used as a name," Helga said. "But I guess it's no worse than Floki."

"Kol... I like it, too." It meant charcoal, and darkness, cinders ready to light up. Kol was the fuel for my pain, and what would make it all better. I'd need some of that tomorrow.

"Careful, Ragnhild. It's bad luck to name a child that does not breathe."

"What's the worst that could happen to either of us?" He grunted, muttering something under his breath.

"I could do with some sleep myself," Helga said as she took hold of Floki's hand. "You can join us in our bed, if you want. We don't have anywhere else to lie down comfortably."

"We'll let you pick who you want to sleep next to, though you should know I tend to snore in your ear." Helga shoved him a bit, making me smile. There was still uncomplicated love in this world, even though it was far from my heart.

"Thank you, that's really kind of you." We got ready for bed, making me dread having to undress. With the snow that had melted on the bottom of my dress it was still wet and I'd have to take it off, revealing the scars between my legs.

Still, I pushed through. Helga got me a nightgown, and I pulled my dress over my head. My ribs were visible enough to count them, my collarbones were too defined, my neck was thin, my face looked like I'd spent a year on a bender with Ragnar. Bjorn forced enough food down my throat to keep it from getting worse, but I still tired easily.

Further down my belly had mostly returned to normal. I barely had any fat left, and all that remained was a flap of loose skin, from losing the weight too quickly. The knife marks started just below my navel. Vinh had been careless, that much was clear just from looking. Dark red gashes, silvery lines, it looked like a macabre painting. And on my thighs, only barely missing my tattoo there, even more cuts. Most were long and looked angry, but a few were short and deep as they marked where the knife had stabbed me.

"What did they do to her?" I heard Floki whisper.

"She fought, Floki. That's what happened. Stop looking at her."

The split second it had taken to change into a nightgown had been enough to make me feel uncomfortable all over again.

"Vinh took great delight in making it hurt," I said as I got underneath the furs next to Helga. "I was hoping she'd nick an artery to make me bleed out. Then there wouldn't have been another choice but to save Kol." "You were willing to go that far?" Floki asked.

"You know how I can get when I make up my mind. I knew I'd get like this if he died."

"He was worried about you..." I turned away, looking up at the ceiling. "We needed him, though. Did he tell you what Harald was planning on doing?" I hadn't cared enough to remember. Bjorn mentioned it once or twice, but it hadn't stuck. 

"Harald tried to kill Ragnar when we lifted the boats out of the river." I glanced over at Helga, seeing Floki wasn't lying. "They meant to use Ragnar's delusions against him, have him go insane in front of all to see. They would have killed Bjorn as well, if he'd been successful. You know that, and you know what would've happened after." Harald would've come to claim the throne, kill Aslaug and the boys... And then the twins, as well. Me, he'd rape before slitting my throat. Or perhaps he'd go for Aslaug, wanting to fuck a queen, passing me off to Halfdan. "Bjorn was the one to put a stop to it, he figured out what they were trying to do." I knew what Floki was implying. If Bjorn hadn't come with, they would have succeeded. Ragnar would have died, and Floki, and the boys... And then us. They wouldn't have let anyone live, and Bjorn would have been unable to stop them by himself. All of us would be dead, now. But it didn't matter to me. 

"If he was willing to risk his life to save me and the twins, how come he wouldn't let me give mine to save our son?" It all came down to that. It would always come down to that. 

"Because you are his weakness. He loves you beyond all reason. You know that." It was easy to think it now, but would I be able to let him die for what he thought was the right reason? Could I stand by and watch him tear himself away from us? 

I didn't want to think on it. Turning yet again, this time looking at the crib that held my reasons to keep going, I let my fingers slide over my prayer. 

I would need the gods to be with me, if what I had seen in town was really happening.


	138. To The Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-11-804

I remembered how Bjorn had come to me for advice, after his moons in the interior. He had looked fierce, and strong, capable of anything. And yet, his eyes showed worry. Just like they did now, and again it was over her. I could see why, there was nothing left of her. Her body was shriveling up, barely any meat left on her bones. Her eyes had lost their light, as if she was halfway to Helheim already. Her movements were slow, almost painful to watch.

It was a stretch of the imagination to think she had almost broken my son once, by telling him where she came from. There had been no need for him to speak the words, I had seen it on his face. Bjorn had always been strong, but somehow she had made him weak. I hated her for it, but somehow she had made him happy as well. And for that, I loved her.

"It's not my love for her that I doubt," he told me.

"You don't need to marry her to claim your children," I reminded him. It had been the night before her bathing, where she had supposedly seen Freyja. "You are a son of Ragnar, and she holds no official title. Not until you marry her."

"I love her. It's what she told me that confuses me, and how the gods fit into her life." 

I'd known exactly what he meant. Ever since Paris I had this idea in my head, on where she came from. It had started when I heard of her strange behavior, then the realization came when she had left for Kattegat, and I had spoken to Floki. First he had said that she knew things that were superior to our knowledge, and then he had said she came from a land we couldn't hope to reach for a thousand years... And yet, she had traveled here. There was only one option, as my father had taught me travel involved two things that could never change. There was the distance you had to cross, and the time that it took was inevitable. Everything else was up to the gods.

Ragnhild was a traveler of both time and space. And infuriatingly enough, she had never lied, just refused to answer our questions. It spoke of her integrity, her grit, but my heart felt uneasy every time I had seen her since. Who could ever know for sure what she knew?

Ragnhild, sister to a Christian. She had changed her name, and only the gods knew what else. There was this dark place in my mind, that had appeared in Paris. When I'd found out. When I realized how it was she knew so much about war, even though she hated bloodshed. That dark place was growing larger again, now I knew just how weak she still was. It would be easy to finish her off now, give Bjorn a chance to find love with a normal woman. If I gave her time to heal, she would sink her claws into him even deeper.

I watched her go, angry at the way Bjorn had kept me from interfering. She had no business taking my grandchildren out into a storm like this, with only a shaggy cloak as protection. I didn't care how long or hard she had fought, she wasn't Viking. In their darkest hour, people showed you their true colors, that much I had learned in Wessex. Ragnhild didn't belong here, she was too weak.

"You can still see the blood - " The door smashed shut. "On the floor where she held onto the wall to try and escape. It soaked into the wall, and into the floor boards. We'll have to replace them to get rid of it. You saw her scars. She fought to save our son harder than I ever thought possible."

"How long has it been?" Bjorn's eyes narrowed at the coldness of my voice. Half a year... If Helga had been wrong, she could have carried another child by now. Ragnhild still had her age working in her favor, this wasn't the time to be a prude. But perhaps it was for the best, having Bjorn see how weak she was now would mean he had a chance to build a life with a new wife.

"Not that long, to her at least. I won't have you tell me otherwise. She needs time."

"She's barren! What could she give you now, but trouble?"

"I don't know what you think you know about her, but you're wrong. She's still my wife, and I still love her." I'd never seen him this... Intimidating. He had shown it to others, to Harald, and Halfdan, when they were about to make their move back in Paris, but I never thought he would aim it at me. 

Bjorn had been fierce, and intimidating. Ragnar had turned out to be useless, and I had been so concerned over him that I had missed the signs. Bjorn had been the one to pay attention after our first failed attempt to get to Paris... He had kept a close watch. The mumblings of resentful men had not gone to waste on him, and with that had come the knowledge that Harald was making a move. He had known what information to trust and what to discard... Somehow, he had just known. Ragnhild was rubbing off on him, but at least he wasn't as smug about it.

"I've more than enough people asking me what I'm doing, still taking care of her the way I do. But I won't have you talk to me the same. You are my mother, not my accuser." He'd gotten so good at seeing what was going on around him, I could only raise an eyebrow in surprise. Even Ragnar had trouble reading my face when I didn't want him to see. 

"But you're still so young. Bjorn..." He was 23, he still had a full life ahead of him. Even though he seemed as experienced as his father, he still had many years ahead of him. He needed a wife who could support him, not one that drew away his attention like this. Ragnar was pretty much useless since Paris, his people depended on Bjorn now.

"If you can't be supportive, then leave. I asked you here hoping she would finally talk, and you only made it worse. You know what happened, and yet you shoved her around when she obviously needs to be comforted. This night was about the son she lost, not about yours." My mouth fell open. Just... My own miscarriage had been many years ago. It would have been a son as well, the one to make me and Ragnar last forever. 

"Just what are you accusing me of, now?"

"You never dealt with your loss, and it still eats at you. Seeing Ragnhild able to show her pain makes you jealous." Jealous?!

"I have nothing to be jealous of, when she has such a crow feeder for a husband!" I wanted to get up, but Bjorn held me by my wrist.

"Stop putting your own insecurities on me. It is you who are a coward, if all you can think to do is run her off. It is you who is weak, and I will not have you speak of my wife like that, not in my own house." He let go of my wrist, but I kept seated. How had he known what was stirring inside of me, even before I had known myself? And since when had he learned to talk with such authority?

"And what good will talking to her do? Huh? What will it bring her?" Despite my biting attitude, Bjorn softened his gaze, as if he was teaching me how to understand his wife.

"She will feel understood. She needs to realize she doesn't have to carry this burden alone. But that's a step that she needs to take, we can only help her see that it's possible. She needs to learn how to trust me again." "From what I've seen, talking like that only makes her weaker. You've changed, ever since you met her. If you share her dream of just wanting to be happy, buy a farm and go live a quiet life there."

"You shut up about how weak she is, and how weak you think she makes me. I've never felt stronger than when we came back from the woods to burn her brother. We'll face this together, and then we'll be stronger still. You'll see."

"You want to talk more than she does," I spat.

"I do. I want her to be able to talk to me, so I can talk to her. I don't just show my heart to anyone, mother. I need her, and I'll be damned if I let you drive her out of our home again. Just why do you fear her?" I wanted to smack some sense into him. I wasn't afraid of that girl. There was just... This darkness, lingering on the edge of my mind, always. This sense of foreboding. 

"I know of her secret." He gave me nothing. Bjorn blinked once, his eyes piercing into mine. He reminded me so much of his father. "How can you not fear what she knows? How can you live in the same house as the woman who knows what will befall us, but refuses to share?" Bjorn scoffed, seemingly not worried at all.

"Is that it? You fear her because of that? You were never this blind before, mother. Think on it. If she came from the future, she'll have changed things by now. Just her being here has altered everything she knows. Those trebuchets aren't supposed to be built for over 400 years." 400 years... They must have been the best available weapon of her time. That much progress...

"I figured as much." I didn't want him to think I was completely useless. "She was terrified of anyone seeing them, you told me so." It had been the last clue I had needed to put it all into place, to see her react to us getting close to the subject... And then it had festered in my mind, and hadn't let go of me, since. 

"That's because Francia will invade her home country one day. She will be born in Frisia, some 1200 years from now." I couldn't deal with this. 400 years, and the trebuchets, those I had seen. That I could believe, and somehow comprehend a little. But three times that much... "Mother, this is important. She changed things, and she is meant to be here. The way she has influenced our lives, and Francia, there's no way she hasn't interfered with her own ancestors. She would have disappeared again." That... Did that make sense?

"You'll have to explain that to me again." My head was reeling. Those thousand years, I thought it was a dramatic flair, but it was just a gross average. A thousand years... Just how would the world look then? "No, I don't. All you need to know is that I love her, and I won't let her go. Ever."

"But you have to see-"

"Not another word. The gods have put her on my path, and because of some careless conversation she is now absolutely livid with me. I'll handle it. We'll get past it." His love for her ran deep. I doubted if Ragnar ever loved me that much, if he had ever needed to. And Bjorn... He had never gone against me like this, hacking at me with such precision. Just what had happened to him? What did she do to my son?

"She's been nothing but a noose around your neck, ever since you fell in love with her. What has she ever done for you but cause problems?"

"All she ever did was love me. Now get out, before I'll kick you out myself." I was curious to find out how he'd go about it, but his eyes told me I'd best not underestimate him.

"Just answer me this," I said as I got up. "What makes you trust her with your life?"

"The fact she has never used any of her knowledge against us. Knowing she is so terrified over being found out that she killed her own brother to keep her secret, all by herself. Ragnhild is strong in ways we don't know how to be. Everything I am now, I am because of her. Now leave. You should have started off with that question, not end with it." It was infuriating, and humiliating, to have my son speak to me like this. Once he had run to me when he was worried, or afraid, but now he went to her for advice, like so many others.

Bjorn had been right about one thing. She was more scared of her secret than I was of her. That meant I could trust her, if only a little. Enough to give her some reprieve from whatever she was going through. After all, she had impressed me. Not just with her knowledge, but the way she had handled her brother. And if it was true, and she alone was responsible for killing her brother... They had lied to me and Ragnar. They had made it sound like an elaborate plan, that they had coordinated their contributions to the Thing and had made it seem like it was more than it was in truth... 

Even Torvi had corroborated their story to a certain degree, while I had thought her loyalty to me unwavering. But it seemed it was just a string of random events. The fact they had managed to convince us of their truth was the worst. Not that Ragnar would have noticed, he was about as far off from himself as Ragnhild was. I only had Torvi's accounts to go on, and aside from the trial, she had been vague about her journey to Kattegat, at best. 

Whatever had made Bjorn act like this, as if he were king already... He surpassed me, and Ragnar. He had grown so strong, and had become so reliable... It was almost easy to overlook, with all that had been going on. But ever since he had come back from his winter away, he had grown, flourished, he was stronger than me. Wiser, as well. He hadn't just anticipated Harald's move, but he had guessed what kinds of tricks Rollo would use. He had advanced, thrived, while I had grown weak. 

My mind slipped from one darkness to the other. There lingered the memories that kept me up at night, the ones Torvi had helped me through when we were in Paris. Without her, I never would have made it out alive. I had no right to judge Ragnhild the way I did, not when Ecbert filled my mind constantly. I had lost so many pieces of myself to that man, and his depravities... I was as good as broken. But unlike her, I didn't flaunt it. I rose up, cared for my people, even joined Ragnar to Paris.

Ecbert. Hearing the name made my skin crawl. Just thinking it was enough to leave me speechless. My stay in Wessex had taught me how cruel mankind can be, what horrors they were willing to inflict on each other, out of sheer curiosity. The gods were compassionate and caring, compared to him. 

And yet, only I was to blame. I knew the face of evil, had slain it myself to become earl. But still, Jorgenson had been a kitten compared to Ecbert. Bjorn had told me his wife was pretty much raised by a man like him, and at first it had garnered her my sympathies. Now, after I had come back, I wondered how much of a man like Ecbert could have passed on through the blood, and just what any children of his were capable of. The world should rejoice that he had no heir yet. Not for lack of trying, though.

Out in the town square I saw a familiar face, pulling my mind back to simpler times. Frida had been recently married when I'd left with Bjorn. Now she had all of her stuff packed, and looked nervous, a small girl standing by as she checked to see if everything was secured to a cart.

"Frida?" She jumped up, clutching the girl to her chest.

"Lagertha, you spooked me." More than a little... Why the nerves? Did she have a bad conscience?

"Why do you look to be moving out of town?" The snows had come early, and hard this year. Why would she risk skipping town at a time like this? It was insane.

"Because I am."

"What of your children? You had a boy as well, right?" Why did she keep avoiding my eyes?

"Ivar killed him. Sweig died as he was playing around, with an axe to his head."

"Frida..." Just what had happened? Ivar was but a boy, three years of age. Her son was much older than that.

"I'm not certain of my life here. I'll head out to my sister's, in the west."

"Who is threatening you?"

"Does it matter? You can't help me, no one can."

"Perhaps if you'll speak to Ragnhild..." Frida let out a dark laugh.

"Did you not hear? I wished for her child to die, and it happened. I have no place here, not anymore. Once she forgives your son, I'm as good as dead." A shiver went through my spine. She'd done what? "I never meant for it to happen," Frida stressed. "The Lawgiver, it was his idea to go to her for help. She refused me, and I got angry. I said things I didn't mean." Her words didn't make sense. The Lawgiver wouldn't advise her to do such a thing, ever. Ragnhild was too closely tied to the case, even if she wanted to... Something strange had happened here.

"You asked the gods to kill my grandchild?"

"I just wanted her to know what it feels like, losing a child. I never meant for this to happen. Besides, it's not like I was the only one." I took a step closer, standing so close that Frida was trapped against her cart. 

"Who else?"

"A - after it happened, Queen Aslaug..." I felt my belly clenching. Of course she had to be involved. If she had anything to do with crushing my son's happiness as she had done mine... "She wanted to know if the debt was repaid. She somehow thought that I wanted to take Ivar's life, and that it would've ushered in a blood feud..." She was lying through her teeth. Either Aslaug had pinned it all on Frida, causing her to run... Bjorn had told me about his worries, about how Ragnhild clung to the idea that Aslaug had gotten a vision that told her what would happen. He had dismissed it as one of her fears, but if Aslaug was willing to go as far as this, to have an innocent woman running for her life, with a small child by her side... Aslaug would shove it off on someone else before she would take the blame herself.

No, that wasn't it. The Lawmaker didn't fit into this, he had meant for Ivar to die. It was the most interesting piece of gossip I had heard in years, even though I had dismissed it at first. Aslaug was willing to go far, to protect her son. And if Ivar was the one to kill Frida's boy... They had threatened Aslaug with taking away her son, prompting Ragnhild to try and help, in any way she could... Just how literal had Aslaug taken that? "What did the Lawgiver have to do with it?" I asked.

"He - he told me what to do, what to say. He and Vinh were spreading these rumors, that the child was not Bjorn's, but that of the wanderer who was struck down by the gods last year." Her brother? Ragnhild was a lot of things, but not a cheater, or a deviant. Just the mere thought... It was the kind of thing Ecbert would do.

These three people were responsible. That vision Aslaug had, it must have... She knew. Ragnhild had known what would happen, just because of who she was and where she came from. There must have been some tale in the future of how Bjorn lost a child, but she couldn't tell him, or anyone, because she was too afraid of what would happen. Aslaug had stood by, deciding it was best for her if the boy lost his life, and then had Vinh carve her up. She had traded Ivar's life for that of my grandson, for that of any future children.

If Bjorn knew this, he...

He had his hands full with Ragnhild, and the kingdom. She could know, somehow. Yes, of course she did. How else could she be this bitter over having her trust breached? She'd told Bjorn plenty of times, and he had shared his worries about her, those useless fears that Aslaug knew this would all happen, even the day of our departure. Half her anger was directed at Bjorn, and the other half was aimed at Aslaug. No wonder it had been so intense, it was about so much more than losing her child... 

"Lagertha?" Frida pulled me out of my thoughts. A darkness started to take hold of me, one that would require a few pointed prayers for the gods. 

"Who are you running away from?" I asked. It was either Aslaug, or Ragnhild. Both of them were capable of orchestrating an untimely death, but in Ragnhild's state... She'd never catch Frida in time. Even if she tried, she was too weak.

"The Vessel," Frida admitted, keeping her eyes downcast. "If the gods will strike a man down for wanting to tell lies about her..." She was truly scared. And rightfully so. 

"Where does your sister live? Do you have enough supplies?"

"I'll be fine. It's not that far, just shy of a week by cart. The north road is quiet." The Marnardal hills... I knew enough. It was about six miles north, and known for all the hiding spots. We'd taken plenty of raiding parties down there, when Ragnar had just become earl. It was faster than the coastal road, avoiding the small towns along the route, but also much more dangerous when you had people wanting you dead.

"Safe travels. I'll make sure Ragnhild won't come after you." She fell into my arms, happy to have found a friend. Little did she know I also had a sudden lust to travel up north. 

The next day Bjorn ignored me, leaving me to wander the village by myself. I didn't mind. I had plenty of people to catch up with, prayers to speak, and I still had to catch up to Frida, with a cart she would have made slow time. No one thought it strange I took a horse from the stables late in the afternoon, heading out to the Seer. As soon as I made my way out of sight from the town, I took a sharp left and rode for the road headed further into the mainland. It was already dark when I found her.

Frida had lit a fire beside her cart, trying to stay warm by the side of the road. The narrow crevasses allowed for plenty of opportunity to go stalking about, almost making me miss a shadow moving just a bit before me. That cloak... That size. It was Ragnhild, wearing an old cloak of Bjorn's, the one he used when going hunting. It was already spattered with blood. 

She'd thrown it around her shoulders last night, when she went off somewhere only the gods knew about. I hadn't seen her since. Either way, this was interesting. I'd get to see for myself just how strong she really was. Bjorn didn't know all there was to his wife's chosen solitude, that much was clear.

I had trouble keeping up. Ragnhild wasn't taking risks, but snuck around at just the opportune moments. A wolf howling in the distance covered her tracks over ice. A cloud passing by gave her a chance to get behind the cart without casting a shadow. She was good at this, she'd make a fine scout. Where did she learn this?

All the while, Frida was oblivious. I heard her rummaging around, making it easy for my daughter-in-law to sneak up on her. It didn't take long for two shapes to rise up, passing in front of the fire. Ragnhild had chosen to get out of the road, sticking a blade to Frida's throat. This was intense. But where was the girl?

Ragnhild must have been sneaking around here for a while, as it looked like she knew exactly where to go. She didn't worry over the child, either, perhaps she'd already taken care of her. Frida's pitiful whining was all that lured me to where the both of them were. A rookie mistake, Ragnhild had been better off slitting Frida's throat and leave it by the cart, making it seem like a robbery. This way, she ran the risk of drawing attention to herself. Unless she wanted answers first. The gods knew I wanted more than a few.

As they came into sight again, I heard Frida trying to beg for her life. The snows were perfect for isolating most of the sound, but how would a foreigner know that? I had to get closer than I liked to hear what she was saying.

"You don't get to beg," Ragnhild said with a voice cold as the snow around us. "You messed with the wrong people, and now you will pay."

"I couldn't have known! Please, Queen Aslaug, she set me up! Both of us! She wants you to kill me!"

"I know she does. She wants to tie up her loose ends. I want to kill you for your part in killing my son. I know everything. You have no more defense."

"Then you know I was dragged into this!" The blade bit into her neck. I could barely see in the faint light of the moon, but Frida stopped whimpering and yelping. Ragnhild leaned in close, speaking so soft I had to strain, inching closer to catch it all.

"I know you had a choice. You chose to take up the Lawgiver on his offer for a larger sum of wergeld. You chose to help Vinh spread those rumors. You chose to take Aslaug seriously when she thought to buy you off with my son's life. And then you chose to believe her when she told you it was best to run away." That bitch... Had Ragnhild not held her at knife-point already, I'd done it for her. Aslaug had traded the boy for Ivar's life, over nothing more but a scam.

"I didn't know she was crazy like that! Please, you have to believe me! Queen Aslaug did this all on her own, I swear!"

"You had so many choices, and all of them were the wrong one. I didn't have a choice. It was taken from me, by our lovely queen. And then, Vinh took away my future. They will die for what they did, and it will hurt. They will beg for me to stop, but I won't. But you... You're the one that made it all possible. What do you think I'll do to you?"

There was no doubt in my mind that she would do it. The soft, calm way in which she spoke, it terrified me, like Bjorn's calm managed to intimidate me. They had been learning from each other, if they ever managed to work together well... Bjorn's plans of going to the Mediterranean would just be the start. He didn't just need her by his side, he needed her not to stand against him. 

"Mother?" I dove behind a rock as I heard the small voice come near. Frida's daughter, she must have woken up from the shouting. Ragnhild had been careless to let the girl find out, live for that matter. "Mother?" 

"Lofn!" Frida tried to get to the girl, almost succeeding. Ragnhild only needed to slice Frida's throat, then let the child freeze to death as she wept over her mother. 

Her damn bleeding heart. Having lost a child herself she couldn't do it. She couldn't tear a child away from her mother. I saw the realization come to her own face, then witnessed the sharp push to the side she gave Frida, throwing her to the ground behind her. She came storming my way, headed out of the rock maze towards the main road. For now her sadness was bigger than her anger.

Not mine. From the shadows I watched her pass me by, tears streaking her face. She wasn't strong enough to defy the gods. She wouldn't have to. Hers was a different fate, with my son and their twins.

I stepped out of my hiding place and drew my sword. Frida would die for her part in my grandson's death, and the girl would die as a loose end. Out here, the carnivores would find her before anyone else would. The girl would never make it back to town. Ragnhild indeed knew how to pick a locale, it was just her execution that was lacking.

"Who's there?" Frida had noticed me, clutching her little girl tight as I drew near. "Ragnhild?" She was frozen in fear.

"She won't help you now. You chose the wrong family to try and extort." I lowered my hood. Even she had the right to know who would kill her.

"Lagertha?" Ragnhild once told me fear cuts deeper than the sword. I hadn't understood it, back then. Warriors didn't cower when faced with a sword, or an axe. On the field of battle, death reigned supreme, but outside of the fight I had hardly ever shed blood. But now the words came back to me. Frida had been so afraid of being killed, she didn't even try and defend herself, or her daughter. There was no scream from her mouth, or a final plea. It was like the fear she felt had killed her even before my sword reached her heart. All there was for me to do was pierce it, and watch the life bleed from her veins as it had done from her eyes. The white unmarred snows formed a beautiful contrast to the dark blood, almost black in the faint moonlight. The snows melted, hissed a little as the warm blood cooled down, tried to overtake the whiteness. It was eerily beautiful, and eerily satisfying. This was the first part of it. My grandson would rest in peace, soon. I'd make sure of that. 

The little girl screamed as she felt her mother fall back, leaving her vulnerable. I put a hand to her mouth, trying to shut her up. 

"Careful, girl. Do you want to die as well?" She stopped fighting me and shook her head. Slowly I lowered my hand, leaving me to clean off my sword of Frida's blood. Crouching on the trampled, blood-soaked snows, I took in the girl. She was pretty, with hair like white flax, and haunting blue eyes. She had gotten her looks from her father. Frida was short and stocky, and had a different coloring. "What is your name?"

"Lofn. Lofn Fridasdottir." A bastard. That made things a lot less messy. There wasn't a family to come after either of us. Frida's former husband lived off in Sweden with a new, younger wife, but if he heard about her death... He still cared for the boy, like Ragnar had never stopped loving Bjorn. He might want revenge for the death of his boy, but he couldn't care less about this misplaced load of sperm. 

"Lofn, I like that name. Do you know why your mother had to die?" The girl shook her head. In the pale light of the moon I saw she looked confused above all. Her mother was dead, but no one was crying or screaming.

"I'm cold."

"You'll warm up soon enough, child. Your mother helped kill a baby, who was about to be born. She wanted it to die, to avenge your brother. But she made a mistake." Lofn frowned at my words.

"Someone hurt my brother, and now he's gone."

"And that's a very bad thing to have happened... But if you do hurt someone, you have to do it for the right reasons. Frida was stupid, and she fucked up. You see, she thought the gods loved your brother like they did my grandson. The child of my son Bjorn, and his wife, the Vessel of Freyja. How do you imagine that makes me feel?" My hand found her face. Her skin felt cold, and I felt her bottom lip was shaking. "Hmm? How could a bastard like you ever be equal to a Ragnarsson, or a Bjornsson?"

"I'm cold..." I grabbed the girl by her braids, putting my sword to her throat. She started wailing.

"Who the fuck are you! To think a child born to us is worth the same as the likes of you! Do you not see how much we suffer already! Why are we not given a reprieve from all of this agony!"

"Mother! Sweig!" I jerked her head back, trying to keep her still.

"Tell the gods I am waiting for them. I demand that they give me another child, you hear me? I will be compensated for having to take this upon myself. They will... They must..." The girl had grown limp. I hadn't even noticed the sword had torn through her skin. Her blood turned my furs red, drenched my sword, turned the girl into a choking, heaving pile of blood-red death.

What had I done? I fell back into the trampled snow behind me, covering my mouth with my hands. I had... I'd killed a child. A girl, barely five years old. She'd called out to her mother and brother, and I...

I had to get out. Just barely I remembered to grab my sword before I stumbled away, back to the main road. My horse would be near, I had to get back to Kattegat.

Bjorn was right. I was weak. So, so very weak. I'd let my emotions cloud my judgement, and now... I'd done the one thing I always said I wouldn't. The gods would punish me for this. It would be severe. And I couldn't blame this on anyone but myself. 

Lofn. The praised one. She'd been fine one second, and the next... 

My hands were bloody. I couldn't come back in town red handed. I bent down to melt some of the snow on my hands, scrubbing them clean as best I could. My skin ached from the cold, but I'd worry about warming them up later. I had planned to do this more carefully, but what had come out of my mouth...

Did I even want another child? I was too old for it. It was useless to hope for, and I imagined Ragnhild wouldn't be too keen on blessing me anytime soon like she had done for Siggy.

I kept on scrubbing until my own blood came up. I'd be able to warm my hands on the sheepskin atop my horse. I should be in sight of the cart soon...

It wasn't there. It was gone, not a trace left to be seen. Whatever trail might have been left behind, the thick flakes of snow that fell had hidden it away in mere seconds. Ragnhild had really picked the perfect night... I hoped she would've passed by my horse, I hadn't been very careful at hiding the gelding away.

Ragnhild was quick on her feet, at the least. She had caught sight of my horse, going so far as to cut the reins loose to save time. She must have thought me an unwanted onlooker. A cart, and a horse... She would be busy taking those out of sight from the world for a while. It left me forced to return to the scene of my crime, having to pull off the warm cloak from Frida. As I was at it, I took her gloves as well. They would not serve the dead better than me.

Lofn's eyes stared up at the stars. I bent down and brushed the hair from her face, but only because I felt like it was proper. It was the last thing she would see, before she would be brought to Helheim. Seeing her dead eyes, her skin that was already turning blue... Seeing her dying was different from seeing her dead. Like she was now, it did nothing to me. Ecbert hadn't just torn away pieces of me, he had managed to kill plenty of me as well. 

By the time I had noticed how disturbed he was, realized just what it was he wanted from me, it had been too late. Ragnar had already left, as had Bjorn. They had both told me of their wariness towards him, but I had still been in love. Only after their ships had sailed had I bothered to look at him through his eyes. The lavish parties, the company he invited to our bed... The longer it went on, the more he would just sit back and watch me get fucked by whomever he chose. It was always his choice, as he had been the one to decide what would happen, and what kinds of things I would wear.

To say he made me wear scandalous things was an understatement. The garments barely covered my breasts and between my legs. The dresses kept getting shorter, the fabric more revealing, until I barely wore anything at all. Piece by piece he changed me into what he wanted me to be, stripped away my pride, and my dignity. Not even Jorgenson had gone so far, but under the guise of experiencing new things, the begging of his eyes... Ecbert was a monster, the kind that only showed his true face in the dark. 

And that had only been the beginning.

It took me the better part of the night to reach Kattegat. I had to hand it to her, Ragnhild knew how to be a nuisance. I made straight for the hall, hoping to warm up without having to see her pretending to have slept through the night when I'd return to their house.

The hall was quiet, but for Sigurd. He stared into the fire, from a safe distance. It was still fully dark out, no time for a child his age to be up and about.

"Sigurd?" He didn't bother looking up at my voice. "What are you doing up?" I took off the furs, trying to see if there was any undue amount of blood on them. They were mostly clean, and didn't look that nice to begin with. I could leave them here and no one would bat an eye. 

"I couldn't sleep. Will you tell auntie?"

"I won't... I'm just a little worried. What keeps you up?" He took me in, then froze as he saw my hands. Shit. They were still covered in blood, though I was hard-pressed to tell if it was mine or Lofn's.

"Where's auntie?" His breathing grew ragged, he was... Afraid of the blood?

"She's fine, she's at home with Bjorn. What's wrong?"

"That's auntie's blood... She'll die!" The boy was starting to get loud. I pulled him close, hoping to shut him up.

"It's not Ragnhild's blood, and she won't die for years to come."

"But there was so much blood... When she lost the baby, she can't have much left..." He was sobbing uncontrollably. What was that thing she always told him when he was crying?

"Sigurd, my sweet, it's okay to cry. It's okay to feel afraid. Your auntie has plenty of blood left, and if that's all gone she'll have more than enough fire to keep her going. Ragnhild will never let you down, or leave you. I know that sure as Valhalla exists." He calmed down a little. It wouldn't do to have him screaming bloody murder now.

"But she was screaming so loud it made my ears hurt... And she almost fell over when she wanted to go outside for a bit, and then she looked so mad when I called mother over. And then I wasn't allowed to see her anymore, but I could hear..." He'd been there...

"What did you hear?"

"Auntie kept shouting. She was begging mother not to kill her baby. And then everyone shouted at auntie to keep still, and then all of a sudden everyone was still, except for auntie. And then even she didn't shout anymore, and mother left with a bundle in her arms. But I still couldn't go in and see auntie, and then I followed mother out, all the way into the forest."

"What did you see?" Sigurd remained silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. The kid was a gold mine.

"Mother prayed to Frigg, and then to Odin, and then she buried the bundle somewhere near the range where I always sit with auntie." I took in a slow, deliberate breath. "Then mother returned and went to Vinh for some reason, and they talked for a long time. I went to go see if I could see auntie, but Helga told me she was asleep so I went back outside and then they were still inside and I got lonely so I went to play with Sneezy."

"Who else was in there, at Vinh's? Do you remember?" He pouted a little.

"Auntie told me I don't have to answer questions if I don't want to." He'd caught on I was trying to pull everything he knew from him? How?

"I know that Ragnhild always tells you that it's good to talk about it. It helps, right? Am I doing it wrong?" He nodded vehemently, making me wonder just what Ragnhild meant with listening and talking.

"You're supposed to say something that makes me feel better. Or ask how I feel."

"Well, I know how you feel. You're scared to lose Ragnhild. You were very scared when it happened, and now seeing blood scares you."

"It's not about you knowing, it's about me talking." A sudden realization shot through my every fiber. That's what Bjorn had wanted to do. He'd literally wanted her to talk about it, not have her listen to me or my experiences.

"Even grown ups have a lot to learn. Are you feeling better now than before?" He nodded, slower now. Sigurd... There was little of Aslaug in him, or of Ragnar. And still, to have such a grasp of how talking to an adult was supposed to be, at his age... Ubbe had been forced to grow up too early, and had to learn how to be observant to survive. Sigurd, however... He was taught how to feel these discrepancies as a second nature. His heart was on display for all to see, and he was stronger because of it. How curious...

"What are you thinking about?" I focused on the boy, seeing he looked worried for some reason.

"I'm just amazed with your auntie. She's... Never underestimate her, little man. Your father once told me she could kill with a whisper."

"What does that mean?"

"It means she can get others to -" Damn it! That fucking... She knew. She'd known it all, and she had put me up to it. She had put everything together so nicely, she hadn't even needed to bloody her own hands to kill Frida. She knew I was there. She knew what I'd do, and she must have manipulated that girl to interfere when she did. And the horse... Had that been a deliberate attempt to kill me? Or was it just meant to delay me? What else had she been planning? Just what was that woman capable of?

"Lagertha? What are you feeling?" I had to do my best to keep from displaying any emotion at all.

"I'm a bit concerned about Ragnhild. She's just so sad all the time, I think we should do something nice for her." It sounded like something she would tell the boys, what she sometimes did for Bjorn. He loved how she could sometimes surprise him by making him a scarf, or she would spend a few hours trying to find just the right flowers to brighten up the house, and he would like that because it was tied to some cherished memory.

"I know just the thing!" Sigurd jumped up, swallowing my lie as if it was made of honey. He dragged me to the doors, barely giving me time to grab the fur cloak I'd taken off Frida, and the gloves that were bloodied on the inside.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the bundle of course! Auntie wanted to hold it in her arms, so maybe just for a little while - " I jerked the boy back by his hand. The flash of skin I had seen between her legs told me how careless Vinh had been with the extraction. If she herself looked like she had gone through a hundred battles, the child... 

"Sigurd, I'm not sure this is a good idea." My grandson was torn to shreds, at best. He would have turned into a collection of bones now, with more than a few broken. But there would still be scraps of meat and skin covering him, eaten by the earth. After half a year... It would harm her more than it would do her good. 

"But with you there I'm allowed to go out into the woods! And I know where it is, mother buried the bundle by that big tree where auntie and brother always sit, and where I watch Ubbe practice his bow." That was... Ghastly. Just how badly did Aslaug want to hurt Ragnhild? If she ever found out... I'd not want to be in town.

"Sigurd, listen to me." The boy looked at me as if I'd hurt his feelings. "Ragnhild misses her son, and you are right when you say she needs to hold him, if only a little. But do you know what happens to a body when it's been dead for a few moons?" He frowned, shaking his head. "It becomes one with the earth. It won't look like a baby anymore, or like a human. I think seeing her son like that will only make it worse." Perhaps in a few years, when the worms had left nothing but the bones... 

Ecbert had taught me how corpses disintegrate, the horrific faces that showed on the bodies as the jaws began to fall... But her son wouldn't have much of a face left. His skull had been crushed. 

"Okay... I suppose you know what a dead body looks like. Auntie always says how you kill enemies like they're flies." Ragnhild really hadn't noticed my reluctance towards her... Perhaps that was for the best. Now I knew where to find her son, I could move him and keep him hidden from everyone, if it ever happened she was turning into a risk.

"I have. It's for the best. In fact, I think that if you mention that you know it, auntie will get very sad again, and will want to see the remains. Can you understand how we should keep it a secret, to protect auntie?" The boy nodded.

"This is one of those grown up talks, right? Where we have to keep our mouths shut about what we said to protect those we love." That woman... I'd been a fool to underestimate her. I wouldn't slip up like that again. I'd trust her, as long as I had the bones of her son as my collateral. If she could get a six-year-old to understand these kinds of things, what else was she capable of?

"You're very smart to see that. Why don't we go see if she's awake?" I was wondering if she'd made it back. Either way I wanted to say goodbye to my son, I would leave today before the fjord froze shut. Something told me we would be having an interesting conversation, before we left. At any rate, I had to apologize. I had been wrong about Ragnhild, I wouldn't underestimate her again.


	139. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-03-805

"Ragnhild! I got to shoot a bow today!" Hvitserk came bursting in, bow still in hand. I looked up from the laundry, happy to take a break.

"Really! Did you hit anything yet? You don't plan on killing me with it, are you?"

"No, of course not! I want to shoot enemies!" He was such an enthusiastic little murderer in the making. If only he knew what I'd been up to myself... He'd never believe me. He'd hate me, if he found out what I had still planned.

"Well, why don't you show me? I have some time. Maybe you can even teach me." Hvitserk happily dragged me along to the range, trying to explain me what to do when and how he was going to be the best archer ever. As soon as we were there he got serious, handled the sharp arrows carefully, checked his bow out loud to see if it was working properly, and only then started shooting off arrows. Almost all of them missed, but that didn't curb him. He ran out to collect the arrows and returned to me, smiling as if he had conquered the range.

"I'm sure the more you practice, the better you'll get," I said, amazed how proud he was of something as simple as firing off an arrow half the time he tried. Life was so easy for him, and to him.

"Ubbe can already hit the target every time, but he's older so it's not fair."

"I'm older as well, but I bet I can't hit the mark any better than you." 

"I don't believe you. Everyone knows how to shoot a bow. Show me!" I chuckled and took the bow, letting him goad me into it without too much effort. Who knew, this could be my thing, the destiny that kept tugging at me, that made me want to go outside again ever since Frida had died. Maybe if I'd been able to shoot her from a distance I would have been able to kill her myself. There were still two targets left, at any rate... Neither of them would run, however. I'd be able to take my sweet time planning their demise.

"Okay, so what do I do?" Hvitserk showed me how to put my feet and how to stand, confusing me as he kept correcting his own words.

"And then you hold the bow like this, and you pull the string about here. But then with an arrow." 

"Wow, this sounds difficult already. How do I aim?"

"Just look at the target, and you'll get the hang of it eventually. But you have to practice every day."

"I don't know if I have the time, but I'll be happy to join you sometimes." I pulled on the string, feeling the tension it put on my muscles. I hadn't done anything this intensive for a while, and it... Felt nice. It was so much better than laundry, or cleaning, or easing into helping other people again. 

"Okay, and now shoot!" I looked at the center of the target, took a breath, and released. The arrow dug into the ground before the target. Hvitserk couldn't be more enthousiastic.

"Again! Again! Otherwise you'll never get better!" 

"But I'm so bad at it!" I let Hvitserk coax me into releasing another arrow, basking in his energy. I tried pointing a bit higher this time, but the arrow flew overhead. 

"Wow, you really suck at this," I heard Ubbe say. I turned around and saw him standing against a tree, a sassy expression on his face. 

"Well, if you're so good at it, why don't you help your brother out and teach me? You love telling adults what to do." I had him there. He came up to me with a smug smile to correct my grip, ignoring Hvitserk who tried to learn at the same time as me with just the one bow between us, then Ubbe handed me another arrow.

"Now pull... No, keep your elbow at the same height as your ear. Use your left hand to aim, your right is for how much pull you want to give the arrow. A little more. Yes, like that. Give it a try." I breathed in and released again. The arrow flew straight into the mark. It wasn't dead center, one of the edges actually, but still closer than I would have thought. And it made me feel better than I expected. I hadn't felt this good in a long time. I felt a small sense of accomplishment, something new to sink my teeth in. This was closer to my destiny than riding a car, or cleaning Bjorn's weapons.

"You know boys, I think I actually like this. Would you like to teach me for more than an afternoon?" Judging by their faces, they were more than happy to. "Just don't tell anyone how bad I still am. I don't mind if I embarrass myself in front of you, but I don't want everyone to know just yet. Can you keep a secret?" Their devilish grins told me they would. 

After an hour or so I managed to get closer to the mark, but still missed more often than I hit. I called it a day and told the boys I'd find them if I wanted to practice some more, but I had to promise it would be soon. Ubbe and Hvitserk stayed behind, wanting to practice on their own. 

On my way back I imagined how proud Kol would've been when he would first start his training. The boys would help him out, as well as the twins, and they'd talk about all the raiding they still wanted to do. By then even Sigurd would've joined in on the raids, maybe even the twins if Bjorn was anything like his father now. 

I decided I didn't want to go back to town yet. Everyone would just want me to talk, and I didn't feel like facing anyone in town just yet. There was one man that might understand my need for distance, and he was out in a hunting cabin. 

"Ragnar?" I opened the door and saw he was hunched over a table. His eyes went wide, his head cocking a bit as he looked up, eyes red. He was high as fuck. 

"Ragnhild, my princess. To what do I owe this pleasure?" I walked up to him and sat down. 

"I need to forget about life for a while. You seem to be doing a great job."

"So do you. Bjorn told me you had me figured out even before Paris." I had confronted him about it before they left, but he was so out of it he must have forgotten all about it. I took a little of the weird paste in my hands, rubbing it over my fingertips. It didn't look like anything I knew. 

"It takes one to know one." I rubbed the stuff over my gums. The slight ache I felt told me all I needed to know. 

"You hardly even use mushrooms," Ragnar scoffed. 

"Because with most stuff, once you get used to it, you will need more, and more, and more. Viking like you are too greedy, and you always want more." Ragnar turned sullen, staring at the remainder of the drugs. The way his shoulders hung, the hurt in his eyes, he was well on his way to reaching rock bottom. It was about time.

"Is that what's happening to me?"

"You're addicted. You'll never stop wanting it. There's this one point where you'd kill your children to get a bit more." Ragnar sat back, trying to make it seem like he wasn't afraid. 

"Have you ever been there?"

"No. But I've done things I'm less than proud of to get my hands on the next fix. I know how deep despair can go." The only good thing to come out of that phase in my life had been learning German, not that it was much use to me nowadays.

"Was it like this stuff? Or more like mushrooms?"

"To be honest, all kinds. Some made me feel better for a short while, that was pretty much like those leaves you all chew before battle. Others made me forget about life, like this one. Then another kind made me see all kinds of things, like moving paintings." Ragnar gave me a curious look. I'd never told anyone but Bjorn about that part of my past. 

"This is all there is left. She never showed me how it's made." That was for the best, for everyone involved.

"Then let me put you at ease. I know enough to make a fair copy. There were some seeds she crushed, and she mixed in some herbs to get this paste."

"That's not putting me at ease, at all."

"The seeds don't grow here. Or anywhere in Scandinavia. You'd have to go to where she came from, and even there it's rare." A blatant lie, but convincing enough to get him to abandon hope of ever finding more. He needed to quit, and get his shit together. 

"Then this is all there is left." Both of us looked down at the table, and judging by Ragnar's look it was enough for two. 

"It would be a waste to toss it," I sighed.

"Yes, yes it would." He divided the amount and swallowed the paste without trouble. With me, it seemed to cling to my throat, almost making me retch it back up. Ragnar smiled as he saw me trying to breathe through my nose. 

"Oh, I can see yes, you have so much experience with this."

"I used to snort it, there's a difference." He laughed as I slapped myself on the chest, swallowing hard to get the stuff to go down.

"I suppose it is fitting that I take this last bit with you," Ragnar said with a twinkle in his eyes. It was the one he saved for when he felt like he had pulled off a great heist. 

"What makes you say that?" Ragnar leaned back on the floor. I lay down on my stomach next to him, sighing deep as the paste went down to my stomach. 

"Nothing. Just the ramblings of a tired, old man."

"You're not that old, just... Strung out."

"How's your body healing?" He turned his head to look at me, his eyes lingering on a spot below my left eye. 

"Bits and pieces. I'll bear the scars for the rest of my life. Bjorn's trying so hard to put me back together that he forgets why I broke in the first place."

"He told me you'd have been able to save him, had you been back home."

"My brother could've saved him. Perhaps I could have saved him myself, if I'd known about it." Aslaug... She would get what was coming for her. Perhaps the time to strike was now, get Ragnar off his arse, pass his withdrawal off as grief, and force him to get better again. And then, after the savory, I'd get to go for the sweetest revenge of all... Vinh would die screaming, begging the gods for help. But only I would hear.

"Did you really try to kill yourself over it?" Ragnar asked. He tried to refocus his eyes on mine, failing as they fell back to the same spot on my cheek. 

"Only when Vinh was pulling him from me. Helga walked in on me as I was trying to clean some dirt out from under my nails, and the knife dropped to the floor when she came in. It was easier to just go with it." It had been a few hours after I had killed the Lawmaker. He had been on his way out of town, and I only barely caught up to him. 

He had threatened to harm Ivar, and that I couldn't let slide. I had known something was wrong, when Aslaug hadn't mentioned Ivar's trial again, and she sent him off with a gift as was customary. I had followed him out, in a frenzy, glad to have caught up with him before he made it to the hills. 

He hadn't understood why I'd come after him, and at first, neither had I. He offered his sympathies on the loss of Kol, and then I'd struck, out of anger, and grief, and I would never have guessed it would make me feel that strong and justified. He had tried to avoid the knife in my hand, and in doing so he had slit open his own belly. His bowels had spilled out, he had screamed, and no one had come to help him. He sat frozen in his pain, trying to shove his entrails back in, but all he had managed to do was scream and make it worse.

All I had been able to think about was the story of how Váli had used entrails to tie Loki to a rock, only to have poison dripping into his eyes. For lack of a rock, I had tied the Lawgiver to the reins of his horse. Instead of poison in his eyes, I had made sure he wouldn't have funtional thumbs to untie himself. And instead of leaving him a loved one to ease his burdens, I had given the nervous horse he rode a smack on the rear, knowing they would surely attract all kinds of predators. 

At home I washed my hair with the nastiest soap I could find at home, scrubbed my skin until it was pink, but even that had not been enough to rinse the bloodlust I felt off of me. I had enjoyed killing him, having to think on my feet when it came to the clean-up. It had pulled me away from my grief, and in doing so it had made me fall even deeper. By the time Helga found me scraping out the last of the blood from underneath my fingernails, I had sunken back into my brokenness, and I hadn't cared where I slept or where I was dragged off to. 

Ragnar watched me as I went through the events in my head. I felt him staring, wondering, wishing to know what was going on in my head. I let him guess, even as I turned to face him again. His eyes were worried, but it was over more than just me. There wasn't pity mixed in, as the others had. For just a second, a tiny sliver of a thought, I wondered how I would kill him. 

"Will you ever forgive Bjorn?" Ragnar asked. Giving him a poisoned batch of his drugs would be too simple. I needed blood, and screaming. I craved it. My hand ached to reach out to his throat. He'd win, easily. I had to get rid of these thoughts.

"That could take years. But I imagine we'll get over it in a few moons. I still love him. And I hate him a little less each day, even though he doesn't know what he's doing. Why do you ask?" I had thought about killing Bjorn, as well. He was a part of the problem, if he hadn't left me...

"Because he needs you. Just like you need him." Not one of these conversations again. Everyone wanted to know why were still together, what our new plans for the future would be, as if they didn't know I was still weak. Why else would my mind be overrun with the desire to split open Ragnar's skull with his own axe? The blood would spatter like paint.

"I needed him to - No, forget it. I don't want to have this same fight again. I'm tired of fighting."

"Then start forgiving." Ragnar nudged my shoulder, as if to shake some sense into me. I could only roll my eyes.

"Like you forgave Aslaug for sleeping with my brother?" I asked. He let out a hum that didn't sound all that disapproving. I wasn't the only one tormented by my demons. 

"It was very gratifying to hear he was a Christian all along."

"Did you ever forgive me, for keeping him here?" I glanced over, seeing Ragnar doing the same. 

"I can't remember why I was even that mad with you. I just remember being mad at myself, and for good reason."

"Is that why you started using this stuff?"

"Idu told me it would ease my worries. It's medicine, she claimed." I thought back to the boys, and how they had been dying to talk to me about the raid after they got back. It had taken me a full moon, but as I heard how they witnessed their father strangle the girl... It had forced me to break out of my shell, at least for them. I could pretend things were fine for them, at least enough for them to feel safe around me. Losing my son kept me from a lot of my responsibilities, but my care for the boys and the twins was the one thing that had only wavered when the ache had been the worst.

"Didn't she ever tell you to go easy?"

"She did..."

"But you didn't listen," I said with a sigh. I glanced at Ragnar again, no longer feeling the need to stick a needle in his eye. Progress. Baby steps.

"I didn't."

"That's fucking stupid."

"You're fucking stupid." We looked at each other, then burst out laughing. It hurt my stomach, having to use muscles I hadn't used lately. But aside from the soft, tender ache of joy, I didn't feel any pain. The physical pain had left me, as Kol had. His body would be little more than bones and skin by now, a measily pile if I remembered Aslaug walking away from me correctly. Vinh had overdone it, in every possible way. She hadn't mutilated only me.

"What are you even doing here?" Ragnar asked as he tapped my knee with his. 

"I can't handle having to see the judgment in Bjorn's eyes. He thinks I'm taking too long to recover, and that it's starting to interfere with his responsibilities." With Ragnar off on his benders all the while, Bjorn was being pulled apart between wanting to take care of me and having to rule the kingdom. He would have to go raiding soon, but he felt like he couldn't risk it with me still being this... Emotionally flexible. 

"Well, you might want to consider letting him back in the house. It's very unseemly to have him walk around the hall all day."

"Unseemly?" I couldn't remember a single instant where Ragnar had used that word before.

"Fucking annoying. Take him back before I lose my mind."

"That's been lost for a while now... But I suppose you're right. It might be time to stop kicking him in the shins."

"Maybe then he'll be able to mourn as well." I rose to my elbow, then sank down as I felt the paste had started working.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't noticed? He's keeping it all in, because he feels like he doesn't deserve to be sad. Everything he does is all to make you feel better. And he might suck at it, but he's not had time to heal, himself." I had been terribly hard on him... I had to finish my revenge, but the longer it took, the more I realized it would be a long time coming. Killing a queen took precision, if I wanted to do it right. I couldn't let the boys find out, ever. It couldn't impact the lives of the twins, or Bjorn. Because gods be damned, I still loved him. He had torn me apart, tried to mash the pieces back together with such force he broke me down even further, facilitating my self-descructive behavior, but I knew I still loved him, despite it all. 

"All I wanted to see from him lately was some semblance of emotion."

"And he kept that in because he needed to be strong for you. You always used to be able to talk about this sort of thing. You made me jealous. What's different this time?"

"I don't want to get into it again. I've had to answer that question so many times I'm not even sure of the answer anymore."

"You're pushing him out. If you keep this up, you will lose him. How would that make you feel?" I groaned as I got up. 

"I get it, stop pleading his case. I'll talk to him, and we'll become happy again. Then everyone can shut up about it and forget it ever happened, like they always do. Get up, I feel like dancing." Warily, and a little wobbly, he did. 

"You never dance." It sounded like an accusation. 

"Because I'm never this fucked up. I've got some moves that will make you shit yourself." In my mind I picked a song and started moving to the beat, slowly at first. I could see Ragnar taking me in as I started swinging my hips, wondering what would come next. With my shame neatly tucked away behind the shrouds that clouded my mind, I raveled in being able to move around so freely. Just for a moment, I felt like I could spread my wings again.


	140. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31-03-805

I woke up with cotton mouth. I got up reluctantly to try and find some water, but there was barely anything left in the cabin. My dress was dirty, and my hair was a great big tangle. Just what did we do? And where was Ragnar? He hadn't left a trace.

Last night had been amazing in at least one regard. It had been so long since I'd let my hair down. I vaguely remembered Ragnar pulling out the braids, until I was left with a bushel of wavy hair. 

"You should honor your mother," he said, referring to Freyja. Then I told him my birth mother's name, and we had laughed again. We had talked about a lot... And we'd danced, and sung, and goofed around. We had fun. It was almost a foreign sensation.

Ragnar had left me behind, covering me with furs to keep warm. The fire had almost died, only some glowing embers remained. We'd talked about the boys, and me taking care of them. 

I made my way back to town, wondering what Bjorn would say after me staying out for the night again, not bothering to leave a message. As I walked through the flurries of spring snow, seeing all kinds of animal tracks, I thought back to what Ragnar and I had talked about. He'd been worried about me and Bjorn, and the future of Kattegat. Harald and Halfdan were weighing him down, a constant threat that had made him cautious of every single move they made, and he wanted to make. He fretted over Lagertha, and Aslaug, and his sons. He made me promise I would look after his sons, multiple times as far as I could remember. 

We spoke of death, of the gods, of our endgame. Ragnar and I had connected on such a pure level. I even - did I tell him of my revenge? Of the prayer, and what I had done to make sure Kol was properly avenged? Just what would I find when I got back in town?

I stopped by the house first, but Bjorn wasn't there. At least he brought the twins with him. I continued on to the hall. As soon as he caught sight of me he came up, twins on his arms, looking like he tried very hard not to yell at me. It was best not to mention anything about last night until it was brought up.

"I'm sorry." His anger fell away. "I didn't mean to stay out all night. I was with Ragnar."

"You know where he is?" Some manner of urgency came to his voice, causing me to worry.

"Not anymore. We were at that hunting cabin, but he was gone before I woke up." I took over Siggy, holding her up to my shoulder.

"Then you're the last one that saw him. He's missing."

"It's only been a few hours. He couldn't have woken up long before me."

"What makes you say that?"

"We were up most of the night."

"Did you..." I rolled my eyes.

"Bjorn, it's gone. All of it. I told him he can't get any more. Even if I felt so inclined I couldn't make him any more. He's probably preparing for the withdrawal again, he knows what to expect now."

"I was asking if you used as well, but if you recognized the stuff you know what it is."

"There was only a little left. It's all gone now. And it was just the once."

"You've got to be kidding me. You know what that stuff did to him. What it made you do."

"And I know I can handle one time. Geez, lighten up." Bjorn scoffed indignantly. "I don't want to fight. Ragnar and I had a really good talk." I tried to ignore the nervousness that came to the surface.

"About what?"

"About us." He leaned back a little, Thormund in his arms. I had to tell him directly, not talk around the subject for ages. He didn't have the patience, or the will to hear me out on a long winded tale.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" What was he expecting to hear?

"He told me I have to stop avoiding you." I put my free hand on his chest, looking at the edge of his markings that peeked out from under his shirt. "He convinced me to allow myself to feel how much I... How much I love you, and need you." Bjorn didn't know how to respond.

"Then..."

"Come back home. Please. I miss you." Bjorn sighed, much to my surprise. My eyes shot up to see what was wrong.

"The gods are cruel. They take away my father, and then they give me back you."

"Ragnar's probably just out for a walk." He took in a sharp breath, then leaned in.

"The sword is gone. He took it, there's no other explanation." My eyes grew wide as I realized just what sword he was talking about. The sword of kings, the proof Ragnar was king of the Danes. He always carried it with him when he went away for longer than a day. And who knew where he was off to now.

"Have a new one made. Fake it, make it look like the other one. Few will ever know the difference."

"Aslaug will know."

"Do you really fear her that much?"

"No more than I fear losing you, still." I closed my eyes as I realized what Ragnar had been playing at last night. He made me realize where my priorities were, and what I had once promised Bjorn. He had wanted to know if I'd be able to assist Bjorn in running the kingdom. So much for my plan to get him back on track by killing Aslaug. He had beated me to the punch.

"We'll get through this, Bjorn. He can't stay away forever. He'll come home, but until then we need to be strong. We need to lead. No one else can, and we can't trust someone else to do it for us. Too much is going on as we speak." Bjorn pulled me close, putting his mouth next to my ear.

"I can't do this without you. I need you, and I can't fight for Kattegat on one front, and you at the other."

"If we can get through this, we can do anything. No more fights like before. No more shouting and blaming."

"I love you." It was too soon for me to tell him those words back like that. Telling about how I still felt, and telling him that directly... It was too big a step for now.

"I won't let you down. What do you need me to do?"

"Go freshen up a bit, then tell the boys. I need to have a serious talk with Aslaug about how we'll need to work together." I didn't like that idea. She and I might have been at each other's throats for the past year, but other than that I still remembered how bad everything had been after I got back from Paris. And that was before all the shit I'd found out about Kol. I had to focus.

"Then we'll talk after? I may need to fill you in on a few things Ragnar said."

"Could those influence what I need to talk about with Aslaug?" I thought it over for a moment.

"He told me I would be an excellent queen." The man really had lost all his faith in his wife.

"What?!"

"Shh! He thinks she'd hurt the town, and knows I'll do better. I just have to... Get better first."

"He chose me as his heir?" It had been a long time coming, and despite their arguments, it was clear Bjorn was able to handle all that went on in Kattegat better than Ubbe would, even if they had been of an age. Ubbe would rule out of duty, while Bjorn ruled out of ambition. He wanted to be king, he had a vision, a goal. Without the crown, he would never make it to the Mediterranean.

"This is not the time to stage a coup." Bjorn sighed and stood up straight, handing over Thormund as well.

"I'm putting a lot of faith in you," he sighed.

"I know. And I'll be the death of you someday, and drive you insane, and I make no sense. I've heard it all before, and here we are."

"Here we are..." We looked into each others eyes, and there I saw the hope Bjorn still held. I saw the desperation over me slowly turn to worry over his father.

I kissed him. For just a moment the whole world seemed to revolve around us. Just for a second, I felt happy again. In only an instant I knew we would be alright. 

Then I felt a pair of arms clutch around my legs.

"Auntie!" I wanted to ignore Sigurd, but Bjorn broke off the kiss for me, leaving me hanging for more. He saw, and it meant the world to him. I still wanted him, he saw I still cared.

"Hi there Sigurd, did you miss me?"

"I did... Hvitserk told me you didn't come home last night like father. I was hoping you'd tell me a story before I went to sleep."

"I had some things to take care of, but I'll be home tonight. In fact, I've got something to tell you and your brothers. Could you get them to come visit me? Ivar as well." He eyed me with a worried look.

"What could you want to tell Ivar? He's only four."

"I need to talk to your mother as well," Bjorn said. "You know how she gets when Ivar's there." Full of understanding he nodded, then ran off.

"I'd better get going, if I want to get changed beforehand." He pulled me closer, letting his hand slide over my hair.

"I'll come home after. I like seeing your hair loose, even if it looks like a bird's nest."

"That's actually one of the things Ragnar and I spoke about. I'll tell you all about it." After a last kiss I turned around, knowing I probably only had a few minutes to get ready. 

At home I quickly changed into a clean dress, then tried to untangle my hair. It took way too long, and I still wanted to wash my face and prepare myself. Sigurd was eager in the task I'd set him, and with my hair only half brushed and my face barely clean, the door already opened. I bound it up in a sloppy knot, it was better than nothing.

"Auntie? Why did you call us over?" Ubbe knew I usually reserved the stern talks for at the hall, or out somewhere no one would disturb. 

"Come in, close the door please. I have some very big things to tell you. All of you." Hvitserk pulled in the cart Ivar was dragged around in, followed by Sigurd. I sat down, waiting for all of them to sit down. Ivar looked around a bit, mumbling to himself as he played around with a few bones. He'd not hold an axe again until he was forty.

"So?" Sigurd prompted.

"I have to tell you something very sad, and very important. I'm going to talk to you about a very adult thing, and I want you to know that you can always come back on it and ask me about it." My words did little to calm them. It was better to just throw it out. "Your father left Kattegat. We don't know when he'll be back, or if he ever will." All three of them went silent. I could see the hurt on Sigurd's face. He was left again, by the only real parent he had left. Immediately he clung to my side, wanting to disappear into me. That way he'd never lose me. 

Hvitserk was old enough to realize what this might mean for his life, but too young to cope with how he felt. He looked up at Ubbe, his big brother, his constant. 

"Why did he leave? I just saw him yesterday. You can't know that he's gone," Ubbe said.

"He took the sword of kings, and he took supplies to travel. He didn't leave a message for anyone. I don't know why he left, all I can say is that Ragnar has been acting strange for a while now." No one could deny that. "Did he divorce mother? Is that why he left?" 

"No, they're still married." Bjorn would have mentioned anything of the sort had he known about it. "I'm so sorry boys, I wish I could tell you better news. But I don't want to lie to you, and you deserve to know." Ubbe knew that, of course. He knew I never lied to him, not when I said I would talk to him like an adult. His hand found his arm ring. I saw his knuckles turning white as he squeezed it hard. 

"He'll be back. Father wouldn't just leave us. You're not lying, but that doesn't mean you're right!"

"Yeah!" Hvitserk shouted as he turned to me. "You don't know everything!" His tough face melted as he met my eyes. 

"I hope I'm wrong, with all of my heart. I love your father, you know that. I want him to come back as well."

"You're nothing but a coward! I hate you!" Ubbe ran off, closely followed by Hvitserk. I wanted to curse and shout, drag them back in here, but they needed to deal with this in their own way. I couldn't force them to understand, or to accept my word as gospel. At least they were together. 

As the door closed with a bang, Sigurd started to whimper a bit. His fingers clutched the fabric of my dress, while Ivar still sat quietly, content with his bones, sometimes waving them around, sometimes putting them in his mouth. He was too old for that kind of behavior, but I couldn't say I was surprised.

"The gods are punishing me," Sigurd whispered. 

"Oh, my sweet boy, of course not." I lifted his head up, looking into his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"Because Harbard was sent by the gods, and I wanted him to go away."

"Harbard turned out to be a very, very bad man. He deceived your mother, and me. The gods struck him down, you saw it yourself. He tried to hurt all of us, and for that his life was taken. Your father leaving has nothing to do with you, or Harbard. Sigurd..." He was close to crying, his bottom lip shaking a bit. 

"Harbard told me things. About how you would leave me, too." 

"All lies. I'd never leave you. You know that, right? I love you, and I need you." He lowered his eyes, something he felt guilty about was crushing him. This must have been what made him cling to me so desperately ever since Bjorn had come back. Either way, it had to stop. I couldn't have him adjoined to my hip anymore and make him into the same as Ivar. He needed to be strong, and only then could I depend on him. Both of us needed to heal. 

"He said that you would get hurt if I would talk to you. He asked me weird questions, and he said he would hurt you if I didn't answer them." Just what kind of a scumbag had I killed? 

"Oh, Sigurd... I had no idea. He was lying, about all of it. If someone ever tells you that again, you come straight to me. Any man who threatens to hurt you, or your brothers, I'll make them regret it. You hear me? Harbard was a piece of shit that didn't deserve to breathe." Sigurd gasped as he heard me say the words. I made a point never to curse in front of the boys, and aside from the occasional stubbed toe I managed to keep it up. 

"Then you're not mad at me?" Sigurd made a grasping motion, and I gave him my hand to hold onto. I knew what he needed even before he made the movement, I had to get myself to stop doing that. The time for sulking and feeling sorry for myself was over. Kol held a huge place in my life still, but he couldn't overshadow my other children. 

"Whatever for? You're the sweetest, most gentle boy I know. I love you very much." I kissed him on his head to prove my point. That was still okay to do, right? Should I wean him off slowly, or stop coddling him cold turkey?

"He... He made me take things from your house. He made me do all kinds of stuff." My diary, for one. I knew Jozef wouldn't go down on his knees to inspect the content of all my shelves. I should've... I never would have guessed he went this far. 

"Like what? It's okay, you can tell me. I won't get mad at you, no matter what it is."

"That weird book of yours, that got wet when you got here. And he would make me leave things in the forest, and keep you away from things, and places."

"Do you know why he wanted you to do that?"

"No, he never told me. He just said you would leave if I didn't. Auntie, you said you wouldn't get mad..." I had to do my best to keep from throwing things around again. 

"I'm not mad at you, Sigurd. I'm very angry with Harbard. He should never have told you anything like that, and the gods were right to strike him down. No one should ever be able to hurt you like that again, and I feel like it's my fault. I'll be more careful about who I trust in the future, I promise." I held him even closer, feeling I was close to tears myself now. I had been right to keep an eye out for Sigurd, but knowing this... "I just can't believe anyone would do such a thing to you. It seems I'm very bad at making new friends. Can you forgive me?" Sigurd just kept silent, thinking his own dark thoughts. If I could take his hurt away, I would. I wanted to, desperately. 

I had to make sure he would grow up to be a strong man, I couldn't see him as a replacement for Kol anymore. He was his own person, and I needed to respect that. I had to grow up myself, and take responsibility for what was happening around me. Sigurd needed me to be strong, Bjorn needed me, as did the twins, and Ivar, and the boys.

The door opened, and two sets of footsteps came near. 

"Bjorn and mother are fighting. They sent us back here," Ubbe said. He sat down without looking me in the eye. Hvitserk saw, he stared at me as he sat down, bumping into Ubbe as he did. 

"I imagine it might take some time," I said as I dried off my tears. "It'll be a while until everything settles down a bit."

"Why are you crying?" Hvitserk asked, looking worried. Ubbe glanced up as well, staring at me as if he tried to make sense of me, like Ragnar used to do. He looked so much like his father...

"Because Sigurd told me about a lot of bad things that Harbard did. I'm very angry at him, because he tried to hurt your brother."

"Yeah, he was nasty," Hvitserk agreed. "He would always ask us weird questions." I took a forced breath, trying to look at ease. 

"About what?"

"About you, and then that one time..." The boy was suddenly hesitant to speak up. 

"He heard you were teaching us how to swim," Ubbe said. "And he told us we could break your rules if he was there. He said we could go practice as he talked to Siggy..." This again... This had to do with why Hvitserk had become terrified of water for a while. Ubbe still didn't like water all that much, but he had put his fears aside as he learned how to stay afloat and got some hours in until I was satisfied.

"Boys? Just what did this Harbard tell you? What happened?"

"I got those cramps when I was in the water too far." Hvitserk told it as if it were his fault. "I can't remember what happened then." Sigurd listened with bated breath as well. He must have thought he was the only one that had something against Jozef.

"I tried to call out to Harbard, but he just stood there." Ubbe looked just as defeated. "Siggy came out to us, and then..."

"She couldn't swim. She drowned trying to save you," I filled in. While Jozef stood by and let her drown. He had lied to me about it, he was the reason she was dead, and her daughter... The girl, Dagmar. Rollo's firstborn, their deaths just might... Would Rollo have betrayed Ragnar, if they had still been alive?

"Mother made us swear never to tell anyone about what happened. Harbard left the same day, and then she started drinking. We just... We didn't know what to do." If it hadn't been for the blasted table in between, I'd have taken all three of them in my arms. 

"I should never have gone to Paris. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that." Hvitserk pouted, but Ubbe was still thinking. I lured Hvitserk over with a nod, who eagerly came running to take a seat on my other side, taking my love and affection with glee. 

"Who was he?" Ubbe asked. "Mother said he was sent by the gods, but now she doesn't even want to hear his name."

"He was a demon, from Nilfheim. Who else could cause such sorrow and pain?"

"Auntie called him a piece of shit," Sigurd said, making Hvitserk and Ubbe look up at me in surprise. I would get my shit back together and step up. I was no longer the scared little girl that came here over six years ago. 

"I did, and I mean it. If anyone ever tries to hurt you again, I'll kill them. I love you, and no one will ever lay a hand on you without me getting revenge." I would protect them with my life. Demons or no, they were all I would get. Them, and the twins, they were all the children I would ever need. I'd take care of them. My revenge on Aslaug would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't like how this turned out to be a series? Looking for a satisfying end to close off? Say no more, I know it wasn't that clear from the start that this would be a series, sorry to jump that on you like this. If you read the next part of the series, you will have a very satisfying ending, leaving a few plot holes open but it wraps up a few major plot points that will satisfy your thirst for a clean ending. It's a short 9-part interim story, currently standing at around 70K. (Ok, yeah, short by my standards...)
> 
> For the rest of you - good news! After the next short installment (9 weekly updates), we'll start off with the next part, where season 4B picks up. Now, as a heads up, there will be even more gruesome tags involved, but I have already decided that when they pop up there will be an A/N warning telling you what to expect, and what major plot points you should be aware of at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> The first chapter will appear soon, I'm mostly editing now but there is a large portion that still needs to be written, as well. If you want to be notified right away you can subscribe to this account, I won't post anything else but this series. If that's not your jam, make sure to check the Vikings board, or watch for the tags that brought you here in the first place.
> 
> And here is a preview!
> 
>  
> 
> Believer
> 
> 14-06-808
> 
> Uppsala was strange. As soon as we arrived, I felt a warmness pass over me. A calm, soothing breath of wind that made me close my eyes for a second. My packs weren't as heavy, my feet not as tired, and the warmth no longer felt suffocating. Sweden was somehow different from Norway. The closer we got to the temple, the more I felt like I was in some strange land, far away from home.
> 
>  
> 
> "Mom?" I looked down at Siggy, but my attention was still with the strange sensation. "Are we there yet?" Her curious green eyes seemed to notice something was going on with me, but she was too young to know what it was.
> 
>  
> 
> "This is where it begins. Can you feel it?" She had no idea what I was talking about. Her eyes went over the trees and the rocks, the bushes, the ledges we still had to face, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
> 
>  
> 
> "We still have to pass over some hills," Helga said. I kept my silence and looked over my shoulder to see Bjorn help Thormund onto a ridge, lifting the boy up by his hand. He gave me a faint smile as he caught my eye. I knew what he was planning to do this week, and the more distant he acted, the more I was certain of it. He would break my heart somewhere this week. And still, I felt calm as we looked into each other's eyes, and a faint smile came to my face, as well.


End file.
